


Single Mom

by LaviniaCrist



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23377468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaviniaCrist/pseuds/LaviniaCrist
Summary: Nathalie's relentless professionalism is not just about organizing schedules and appointments, dealing with important contracts and documents, or taking care of Adrien when necessary. She, above all, is an efficient single mother.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Nathalie Sancoeur, Alya Césaire & Nino Lahiffe, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth & Nathalie Sancoeur, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste's Bodyguard & Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 1
Kudos: 22





	1. She has personal life

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Mãe Solteira](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17540465) by [LaviniaCrist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaviniaCrist/pseuds/LaviniaCrist). 



> The original fanfic is in Portuguese, this is a translation as is the Spanish version. I am not fluent in English, in fact my level is basic, I used translators as help. I apologize for the possible mistakes and to let me know so that I can correct them.

It was late afternoon and the Paris sky was painted in the most diverse orange tones. However, the studio at the Agreste mansion was still filled with a strong white light, something that could even blind those who were not used to it. The room was also immersed in the most absolute silence, which was interrupted only occasionally by the sound of a delicate and fast typing.

That peace was rudely interrupted by a telephone ring. It was a discreet touch, not as loud as the break of silence made it seem, but even so it was a completely unknown sound for Agreste.

The man stared at the assistant, making his displeasure clear. She, in turn, looked at the cell phone nervously, taking it in her hands in a hurried and awkward way. Then, Nathalie hurried steps out of the studio, completely ignoring the superior and his possible curiosity to know what it was, but making it clear that it seemed to be important to her.

It is not as if the assistant was forbidden to receive personal calls, which does not mean that it happened frequently - or that at least it had already happened. Nathalie was extremely professional, always keeping her coldness mask intact, which only made her departure in an alarmed way become a focus for Gabriel's curiosity.

It would be rude if he tried to hear behind the door, but nothing could stop him from hearing anything if he passed Nathalie to get a cup of coffee. The idea pleased him, it had been a few hours since he took a break from work... and it would be interesting to find out what made the assistant nervous.

However, when Gabriel opened the doors of his sanctuary, he found the assistant wandering from side to side in what appeared to be the end of the call:

— Yes Yes! I will go as soon as possible! Thanks for warning me. — her voice came out full of concern, while the device was removed from her face — It must take me an hour, then twenty minutes until we arrive and another hour back — She began to murmur, still walking aimlessly through the mansion's entrance while doing your calculations.

— Nathalie, — Gabriel finally made himself noticed — should I assume it's an emergency?

— Yes! I need to go to... — She sighed and nodded before continuing. Once again, his mask of coldness was put on, accompanied by a calm and listless voice — No, it is nothing really urgent. I can solve it in a few minutes by making calls.

It was as if Agreste's curiosity was being put at stake: if he allowed Nathalie to go, he probably wouldn't know what she was going to do until she returned; if she stayed and made the calls, she might be able to hear something. In any case, he let his common sense speak louder - whatever it was, it seemed to be serious.

— You can end your shift earlier today. Take advantage of tomorrow's break to resolve your private matter. — The words were said with disinterest, perfectly disguising Gabriel's latent curiosity. When he noticed the assistant trying to order something on the phone screen with shaking hands, he realized how serious the problem must be and how nervous she really was under the appearance she wanted to appear — You... — he stared at the bodyguard son, who throughout the time was standing in front of the boy's bedroom door — Go with her. — Ordered, implying that Nathalie should be accompanied wherever and for how long it was necessary.

— Thank you, Mr. Agreste — said the woman, waiting until the boss entered the studio and closed the door before letting the mask fall again.

The walk to the car was made quietly. Nathalie's concern was written on her face, but the co-worker knew perfectly well that asking something now would only make her uncomfortable. Anyway, there was one thing he needed to know and he made a point of asking while they were still buckling up:

— Where are we going?

— Turn off the GPS — she asked, clumsily holding the cell phone in her hands — I tell you the way you should take...

— And are you really in a position to do that?

All Nathalie did was an affirmative nod. He would not go against her wishes, he knew her colleague well enough to know what challenges made her angry, making her angry was all she didn't need now.

.

.

.

Nathalie was now in a small room that contrasted completely with the large studio of her superior: the walls were a brownish color, which only made the room take on a warm tone with the help of yellow lamps. It wasn't a clear place, it wasn't a clean or modern place, but it was cozy. She was sitting on one of the velvet-lined chairs, facing a lady with a sweet and respectful face whose name was framed by a plaque on the table that separated the two.

— The inconvenience is unfortunate, but we have no way of letting this little accident go unnoticed — the older one spoke comprehensively, placing her hands crossed on the table — What surprised me most about the young man's conduct... — and, at this moment, she made a point of facing the blond-haired boy who was standing, leaning against one of the living room windows — ... it wasn't that he fell from a tree, nor did he climb one. What surprised me was the attempt to hide what happened.

— It's really worthy of scolding — Nathalie's harsh voice only made the boy face the outside view with more focus to ignore the conversation — Hiding something like that for so long, without worrying about the consequences...

— Consequences — repeated the other, sighing — Let's now talk about the consequences: the right would be a suspension, but the recess begins practically today. We then chose to deprive him of extra classes until the end of the recess.

— But it's not fair, it wasn't even my fault and... — The boy tried to explain himself, uselessly.

— It will be the necessary time for the recovery of the ankle — Nathalie completely ignored the whining of the other, interrupting him — I apologize for the misfortune. If that was all, I think the problem has been resolved — She stood up.

— He's a great guy, I'm still surprised by the actions he decided to take — the older one stood up too — I look forward to the return, for better decisions too.

And, with a brief handshake and a wave, Nathalie and the boy left the principal's office. A small part of the problem was solved, but there were still many other points to get right, which left Gabriel's assistant completely discouraged and with mixed thoughts.

.

.

.

Gorilla was waiting patiently in the parking lot. He was not sure where he was, but he thought it was some kind of school due to the architecture of the buildings and some uniformed youths were walking through the huge courtyard. From the looks of it, it seemed to be the kind of place where only the elite frequented.

That sphere of educational institution made him have memories of his high school life, it was fun and funny to frighten the minors that he was, especially living up to the nickname he had earned: Gorilla. It was really unusual to have been given the same nickname, years and years later, but by a boy who would never dare to misfortune.

Distracted by his thoughts, he only noticed that his colleague was back when the back door of the car was opened and a boy entered. At first, he thought he was just a distracted boy getting in the wrong car, but looking closely, he seemed to be extremely familiar: thin, blond, with clear eyes. He would even think he was Adrien's cousin, if he wasn't sure that the Agreste family was all about Gabriel and his son.

Before he could ask the new passenger anything, Nathalie entered through the other rear door. She was no longer as nervous as before, but it was clear that she was still worried - maybe even irritated. Another thing the car driver noticed was the strange resemblance between her and the boy: they both had fair skin, a disinterested look (hers being in a much stronger and more vivid shade of blue) and behaved in much the same way, both looking out the car window and not looking satisfied.

— Where? — That was all Gorilla managed to ask, trying to notice a little more about the boy next to Nathalie.

— Hospital — the voice came out with a certain coldness that tried to hide the concern while she still stared at the window — There is a next one taking the main one, you only need to make a return, if I'm not mistaken.

— Hospital? I don't need it, I just need to go home and rest... — murmured the boy, it was remarkable that even his voice reminded Adrien by the tone, while the frigid way reminded Nathalie.

— You go to the hospital and they'll take care of your ankle. No "but" and no excuses — she continued to look out the window, even seeming to avoid eye contact with anyone in the car.

— But mom... — whined the blonde, for the first time looking directly at Nathalie. He looked distressed, but what caught the bodyguard's attention the most was the way he referred to the woman.

— What part of the “without‘ but’” you don’t understand yet, Félix? — She asked, finally facing the supposed son — Undo that face of abandoned cat, it's not so much... — after the scolding, she looked at her co-worker through the car's central mirror — Come on.

.

.

.

The thirteen minute drive to the hospital was plunged into absolute silence.

Silence remained until they reached the parking lot, more precisely when Nathalie was helping Félix out of the car and, as soon as the boy touched his foot to the ground, he let out a few grunts of pain.

— Want help? Asked the bodyguard promptly.

— It's not necessary, thank you... — Nathalie replied, causing the boy to lean on her before they started walking — I don't think it will be long, but it's getting late and I would understand perfectly if you want to go home... — She said, running her hand over the boy's blond hair.

— I'll wait here, don't worry.

She nodded, beginning the walk to the hospital entrance. It was a large building, as refined as the hospital that the Agrestes occasionally visited for a checkup, but it did not appear to be modern. It was beautiful, but not modern.

Thinking about the region, the man turned his thoughts towards a very simple question: where was he, after all? He got lost after so many laps, entrances, tolls and even more laps.

He wouldn't dare to disobey Nathalie's request and turn on the car's GPS, but he was really curious about the place. It was distant, distant even from his colleague's house — he had taken her home now and then when it was too late and Gabriel was in a good mood — which only made him even more curious.

Perhaps the call she answered earlier was related to going to school, that was almost certain. However, what would it take to call her, so far away from there, instead of those responsible for that boy? And how did Nathalie know him? And why did he call her "mother"?

Before the man got even deeper into his doubts, he was pulled out of his trance by the car doors being opened once more. This Felix sat in the same place as before, with a sullen and embarrassed countenance, Nathalie already seemed much more calm, without worry and willing to face the boy instead of looking out the window.

— Can you remember the way to my house without help? — she asked the driver, looking at him in the rearview mirror

— I think so — said Gorilla.

— Great. — She looked back at the boy beside her — Explanations.

— I fell... — was all he said, looking out the window.

— Felix, explanations — said Nathalie in an orderly tone, holding the boy's chin and making him look in her direction.

— It was that annoying girl's fault again! I had to climb a tree, only the branch gave way and... — He started to fire the answer, which sounded more like a lame excuse than a real explanation of what happened.

— I understand that your roommate can be annoying, but don't you think it's an exaggeration to climb a tree? — The woman's tone was calm, with a hint of reproach.

— No... I don't think, because it worked. Only then the branch gave way because I am the most unlucky creature on the planet! — He accused, dramatic.

— Not so much... — Nathalie sighed, unsuccessful on the issue of climbing trees — And why did you hide the twist for so long?

— I just didn't mean to disturb you — he replied in a low tone, looking out the window again. That little comment managed to elicit a smile from Nathalie, who stuck her fingers between the blond strands in a caress.

— You will never be “nothing”, don't worry.

And with that little observation, the woman managed to get a smile from the boy. He also managed to elicit a low-key smile from Gorila, who just overheard the conversation and tried not to let as much in his face as he was watching them both.

Once again the trip was plunged into silence. Félix ended up falling asleep with a few minutes of affection and Nathalie, without having much to do, just looked out the window and time or another indicated which direction should be taken.

Sometimes Gorilla took the opportunity to look at the boy in the back seat. He seemed to be wearing his school uniform, he seemed to be a real “spoiled”, but, above all, he seemed to enjoy being close to Nathalie, even though she was avoiding looking at him at first. Maybe it was some child who was in her care before, so the similar behavior…

.

.

.

Nathalie's house was a typical house in a residential neighborhood: discreet, small, just like the neighboring houses and far from the center. Gorilla often wondered why she shouldn't rent an apartment closer to work or even live in the mansion, given that she spent all day there.

— We arrived... — murmured the driver, unlocking the doors — Do you want help with him?

— I don't think he'll accept it — Nathalie sighed, defeated before she even started the fight to get Félix out of the car — But I want to talk to you — she handed the house key to her colleague, in a silent request for him to go ahead.

The bodyguard got out of the car, went through the small garden space and opened the door with some curiosity, noticing as much as he could: he had never seen what it was like inside. Knowing anything about Nathalie was a really difficult task, she was extremely reserved with her personal life.

Despite his immense desire, he did not dare to enter. She just left the door leaning and went back to the car, not sure how to help Nathalie: the boy hugged her, trying to pull her into the car while he seemed to be sleeping; she, in turn, tried unsuccessfully to pull him out. The war between the two continued until she lost her temper.

— FELIX! — She shouted, with one hand clinging to the car door in search of balance and the other holding the boy's forearm.

He woke up instantly, confused, but quickly giving in to the tugs she was giving and getting out of the car. So they both started walking slowly, to the door. Gorilla gave them a pass, entering shortly thereafter, but first making sure to lock the car if it was going to take too long.

The colleague left the boy lying on the sofa in the living room, silently allowing him to go back to sleep. The furniture appeared to be soft, completely matching the cozy sphere that the place had: wooden furniture, all with the same combination of light colors. Everything was neat, organized, which did not appear to be an abandoned place most of the time.

— Do you accept a coffee while you continue to notice my decor? — Nathalie's voice sounded amused, as she walked to the room that seemed to be the kitchen.

— Yes... No! — The man got tangled in the answer — I accept the coffee, but I'm not noticing the decoration... — he started trying to explain himself, following her — I am, but I was just curious, because I didn't expect such a place...

— A place...? — She indicated with her chin so that he could sit at a small table in the kitchen, while he started to prepare coffee.

— Cozy — he replied, sitting up and trying not to notice the kitchen, the cupboards, one or the message leaflets nailed to them, let alone a pair of bowls next to a possible back door.

— Cozy? — She repeated, letting a little laugh escape — I would say old-fashioned, but that's not what I want to talk about.

— Want to talk about you having pets?

— No, we are not going to talk about the cat that Félix did the favor of dragging home — she sighed, a little irritated just by remembering all the problems that the little mascot gave until she started to behave alone.

— Wait, does he really live with you? — This time the question was even more incredulous.

— Usually he stays away and only comes on Sundays...

— Nathalie, I'm talking about Felix, not your cat!

There was too much information, too many thoughts and questions to worry about just one cat. Nathalie trying to sound fun did not help, on the contrary, it made everything even stranger than it already seemed.

— Félix studies at a boarding school, returns home on Sundays. I'm not stupid enough to confuse my son with my cat! — Now she sounded irritated, putting a kettle of water on to warm up.

— Wait, wait! — The other asked, getting even pale — Are you saying that he is your son? Is it really yours? Isn't it like Adrien, son of a former boss or something?

— IS! Is my son! — The voice remained irritated, but a cynical laugh came shortly afterwards — You can start with the judgments, accusations of irresponsibility and everything else that must be crazy to speak. You can even give me decoration tips if you want — she sat across from her colleague, facing him in the most serious way she could — I just don't want anyone else to know about Félix, understand?

— No!

— Which part you did not urdestand? — The woman controlled herself not to roll her eyes.

— The part where we've been friends for years and you never told me you had a child! This part! — He couldn't sit still, got up and started walking through the small kitchen — You work all day, practically taking care of Adrien, while your son is in boarding school!? What else do you hide, Nathalie? Is Nathalie your name again? Are you married to an Italian mobster, why are you hiding?

— Hey! — she called, already without irritation in her voice — I'm not from Italy... — she commented, trying to calm him down. It was funny to see a person as big, as strong and as quiet as he was in shock at something as simple as that.

— I can't believe it... — he sighed, taking the kettle with boiled water and pouring it awkwardly into a cup — Nathalie, how are you going to take care of him? Speaking of taking care, you went to the hospital with him, but I bet you didn't talk about that annoying cough of yours...

— It's spring, pollen allergy.

— Don’t change the subject! — He walked back through the kitchen, trying to think about what to do — Maybe if he takes him hidden, Gabriel doesn't notice. Although he may mistake his son for Adrien... Adrien is not your son either, is he? Ah... — and, again, he went pale again — Felix is Gabriel's bastard son!?

All Nathalie managed to do was start a fit of laughter, mixed with short periods of coughing, followed by even more laughter. She never imagined such a comical reaction from her colleague.

After a few minutes, everything fell into an uncomfortable silence. Nathalie still had some tears in her eyes from laughing and her colleague was still pale, using almost all the boiled water - he probably hadn't noticed yet that the coffee was not ready.

— Tomorrow is my day off, I take care of him... Monday he will be able to manage by himself — she shrugged — There is not much I can do about it.

— Ask for a few days off, it's your son...

— He'll suspect something. All I don't want is Mr. Agreste knowing something about my life. It wasn't even for you to know, by the way...

Again, the dialogue was dropped and the kitchen fell into an irritating silence. The bodyguard was offended and worried, Nathalie was trying to think about what to do. And so they remained, for a few minutes, until Felix appeared at the door with a face that was not very happy.

— Mother... — he called low, completely ignoring the big guy right next to him — help me up the stairs?

— Don't you think it's better to stay in the room? It will end up falling if it keeps going up and down all the time — even talking like that, Nathalie was already on her feet again, going to the boy.

— Plagg likes to stay in my room...

— Plagg is the name of the cat, before you ask — the woman looked at her colleague while she was hugging her son — It is getting late, better to go back to the Agreste mansion. If he asks, make up any excuse.

Gorilla just nodded, not sure what kind of excuse he could come up with.

.

.

.

After leaving her son in the room and making sure that Gorilla was already gone, it was time for Nathalie to start working. She hated taking work home, mainly because she was almost never at home, but as much as she was able to do in order to be able to return home early in the next few days would be better.

Contracts, orders, storage, budgets... even investments that Gabriel made passed through her hands before, as if she were in charge of sifting what was really worthwhile or not before passing it on to the boss. Amid so many tasks, his concentration was completely ruined by a single word:

— Mom? — Felix called quietly, waiting for the door to be opened.

The woman stood up, listening to a symphony of bones cracking from sitting too long in the same position. Hurriedly, she went to the entrance of her room and found the blond boy staring at the floor.

— Is your ankle hurting? Want something? — She took the chin of his with one hand, making him look her in the eyes.

— I just lost sleep... can I stay with you?

— I'm busy now, Felix... — she sighed, but she couldn't resist the eyes of the abandoned cat that her son did when he wanted something — Promise to be quiet?

— We promise — he gave a discreet smile, leaning on her to enter the room while the little black cat took advantage of the breach to enter.

Nathalie didn't even try to resist, she knew that the only way would be to accept the invasion of her son and the pet cat beside her while she worked. She helped Felix to settle on the bed, made sure to place the cat next to him and place a good night kiss on his son's forehead.

— Mom...

— Hun? — She avoided making eye contact, placing his injured ankle on a pillow.

— Tell me a story?

— Felix, you are already big... — she sighed, knowing where it would end — I can't now.

— I thought it would be nice to remember when I was a little boy and you paid attention to me, but since you are busy — he whined, turning his face away and looking offended.

Nathalie went back to her desk, typing some things, fixing others and pretending to ignore the drama that Felix was doing. Even the boy thought she was back at work, but was surprised to feel his mother's arms around him minutes later.

— If I need to work later, don't complain! — she warned, touching the blond wires.

— I will not go! — quickly, he turned towards her and hugged her too — Are you really going to tell me a story?

— If you really want to... I just don't promise to be able to stay awake until I finish counting.

— Tell the story of the Heroes of Paris.

— That again? Will you never get sick of butterflies, cats and ladybugs? — Nathalie sighed, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep without first finishing at least one of the stories.

— Plagg hasn't heard about it yet... — Felix replied amused, waiting anxiously for the beginning of the story. He missed having his mother close, he tried his best to keep her from work, even if he had to resort to childishness.


	2. Sunday Day

Even though it was Sunday, Gabriel Agreste woke up at six o'clock in the morning. It was a day like any other for him, with the only exception of not having his assistant assisting him or his son's bodyguard taking care of the boy.

Adrien, meanwhile, was struggling against sleep in order to keep his head up. He woke up early with a single fair purpose to get him out of bed: to get breakfast together with his father. They usually didn't talk, barely looked at each other over breakfast, but at least they spent time together.

— Adrien — Gabriel started making the younger Agreste wake up a little more — Did you talk to any of your friends today?

— Did I talk? — the boy repeated, without fully understanding the question. He always talked to Nino, with his other friends too, but he wasn't sure if that was a pretext for scolding him for going to sleep late at night — Yes, I did — he replied, finally.

Gabriel just held his cell phone in his hands. He didn't like that small screen, much less having to type something on the sensitive buttons that were normally pressed by mistake, but he couldn't take his curiosity any longer. Since last night, he had expected at least a brief explanation from the assistant about what he was going to do, but he had received nothing. If Adrien had texted his friends so early, what harm would it do to send him too?

— You have friends? I mean, are you going to text any of them? — Adrien asked as he rubbed the backs of his hands carefully over his eyes.

— Something close.

— Dad... please don't send pictures with good morning messages or anything, or spread those annoying currents... or click on anything, it could be a virus! — the boy warned, completing mentally "or a disturbing image of someone naked, or a compromising audio".

— Thank you for your concern — said Gabriel in a sarcastic way, staring at his son over the lenses of his glasses and turning his attention back to his cell phone, right after.

In fact, he had already given a strong indication that Adrien's concerns could come true. Once, on one of his social media profiles, he ended up sharing a video with compilations of cats in funny moments. It was just a mistake, since he used such means to publicize his brand; it didn't take more than five minutes for all of your fashion fans to be commenting on the video, sharing and tagging it in various posts of the genre.

Gabriel carefully opened the message board for Nathalie. There was nothing there but short reminders about scheduled appointments, things that only served as an "extra guarantee" that nothing could be missed. It wouldn't be unethical to send a message asking if everything was okay, would it? Good bosses did that, right?

— Dad — the boy drew attention to himself again — Are you sure that the person you are going to talk to is already awake at this time in the middle of Sunday?

— Absolute. Nathalie must surely be awake — the voice came out calm, as he started to type the small text.

— Nathalie? — the interest that Adrien was giving to all that was remarkable, his laziness had disappeared completely — Why don't you call her? You hate messages...

— It would be rude to simply call to see if everything is fine, a message is something more practical: she will see when she can and will answer me if she feels like it.

— Did something happen to her? — The boy's voice came out full of concern.

— We'll know soon — Gabriel replied, pressing the send button. It was short, to the point, not being overly professional, but not making it clear how much curiosity was consuming the Agreste:

.

_Gabriel Agreste says:_

“ _Did you manage to solve everything yesterday? ”. [06:03]_

.

.

.

Away from the rough mansion, from the center of Paris and from any worries, Nathalie slept in a heavy sleep to the point of not hearing a new message on her cell phone. Félix, in turn, did not let this detail escape and quickly took the device - taking all possible care not to wake his mother with his movements.

Of all the mannerisms and behaviors he had inherited from Nathalie, only one did not leave him as a true copy: jealousy. He was a natural possessive with her, ruining whatever the chances were of someone approaching her. He didn't have as much time as he would like to be together, anyone who tried to steal his mother's attention was an enemy.

— Gabriel Agreste... — whispered the boy before giving a discreet smile, recognizing the name promptly.

I couldn't leave it at that. Nathalie worked for him, neglecting his own life and his son because of the Agreste ... he would not let them consume her time even more. Things like that message couldn't happen in full swing anymore! That man needed to understand what the limits were!

With all the delicacy in the world, he prepared the scene for a compromisingly perfect photo. Balanced between a direct response, fertile imagination and a small sample of how much more beautiful her mother was with her hair down, making the red mess more evident:

Nathalie was perfectly framed in the center of the image, lying on her back to the camera, with her hair spread over her shoulder and the pillow. Her hands were close to where she hugged Felix, now, delicately draped over the messy sheet. The blanket covered it even close to the waist, the boy purposefully put it like this: the thin waist, evident even when covered by a thick sweater, should be highlighted!

And there it was, the perfect photo of Nathalie being sent to Gabriel Agreste, with the following caption:

.

_Nathalie Sancoeur says:_

“ _She's still asleep! ”. [06:06]_

.

Satisfied that everything was seen at almost the same time, Félix erased the evidence of his mischief and went back to bed. It was Sunday, after all.

.

.

.

Gabriel put his cell phone on the table, picking up his coffee cup and trying to appear calm. All he wanted now was for his assistant to be right in front of him, so he could shout and demand explanations about it. Adrien, for his part, just let curiosity guide him and observed the answer his father had obtained. With a lovely smile, he commented:

— Nathalie looks beautiful with her hair down!

— Yeah... — the eldest sighed, thanking the heavens for his son's naivete.

Nathalie was in bed, so the photo was taken by someone else. This other person was previously lying in bed with her, the messy sheets were proof of that. Nathalie had made a dramatic scene just to leave early and go on a date or who knows what to end in that situation so...

— Dad, look at that! — the boy asked, taking the phone between his fingers and zooming in on the bedroom window.

— What? — Gabriel looked at the image without finding any further evidence of how much his assistant was a… a...

— The view from Nathalie's room is incredible! — Adrien's voice was animated — She must live near a park... do you think we can go visit her any day?

— If she invites, I don't see any harm — even trying to appear apathetic, Gabriel was about to take his son's cell phone and tap it on the nearest wall. He felt insulted, deceived... he hardly believed that he was really worried about Nathalie, while his personal problem was probably summed up in a romantic encounter about to be canceled!

And then, as if by magic, the eldest remembered another point to arouse his irritation: he sent his son's bodyguard to accompany her. That hollow-headed thug served as a private driver on a date! Worse, maybe he was part of the meeting! Nathalie was smart, she could have set up everything to get out with a hidden coworker... Gabriel had fallen into the trap like an imbecile.

Carefully, the patriarch took the phone back and decided to send a message to the other party involved in all that:

.

_Gabriel Agreste says:_

“ _Where did you and Nathalie go yesterday? “. [06:11]_

.

.

.

The Agreste mansion was large, with several rooms and rooms for the most diverse purposes. However, in the back, running away from all that sense of grandeur and comfort, there were few cubicles designed to house the employees there.

They were not beautiful rooms, they were not inviting and they were never used. In fact, only one of the employees remained willing to stay under the same roof as Gabriel Agreste even after hours: the bodyguard.

No personal reason kept Gorilla in that place, he simply decided that it would be better to save savings without worrying about paying a rent. His plan, however, was thwarted in the first few weeks: he spent all his salary on night outings and collectible car models.

At this hour of the morning, in full slack, the man was cursing himself for spending the night in the open. Since the previous day, when he discovered a small piece about his colleague's life, he had been unable to think of anything other than a possible theory of how Nathalie had arranged a child and the reason for hiding him from the world.

.

_The day before, on the way home, he stopped at a drive-through parking lot and started trying to understand everything that was going on, delighting himself with an extremely sugary milkshake. The man thought better of the car while he froze his brain._

_Theories surrounding the Italian mafia had been dismissed, but the Japanese mafia and even the dangerous Russian mafia remained... Nathalie spoke Russian!_

_So that was it: she was involved with the Russian mafia!_

_And why did she hide her son? Perhaps it was fear that some mobster would use the boy in threats... no! Nathalie was not the type to hide with threats - in fact, she was the one who normally threatened people. She probably had experiences with threats!_

_Gorilla went pale, practically panicked by what he had just thought: Nathalie was one of the mafia bosses who walked away because she had a son and now wanted to hide him from her past while diverting the entire Agreste fortune and...!_

_Before he could finish his theory, a police vehicle entered the parking lot. That could only indicate one thing: they were already after Nathalie and now they were after him too because he knew too much!_

_To get away from it, the only thing he was able to do was start a high-speed escape to the rough mansion. As soon as he arrived, he threw himself on the bed and continued to think about his theories and how he was in trouble now._

.

Hours and hours later, Gorilla was still lying in bed in exactly the same way, thinking about everything that was going on. At least he was safe at home, away from police, but there was an even greater danger near him: Gabriel Agreste.

The bodyguard practically jumped out of bed when he heard a cell phone message. When he saw the boss's name on the screen, he started pacing the small room, trying to think of an excuse... He couldn't hand over a mobster and try to get out unscathed!

.

.

.

After sending the message, Agreste looked more closely at the contact's name and asked his son:

— Why is your bodyguard with that name, Adrien?

— Well... — the boy hunched his shoulders, sitting again in his place at the table — I think he likes to be called Gorilla.

— Ah... — Gabriel pretended to care about his son's answer, but he really did care about the answer he had just received:

.

_Gorilla says:_

_"I don't speak croissant" [06:13]_

.

Agreste took a deep breath, starting to hit the teaspoon against the saucer. It was amazing how the lack of importance he gave to the people around him only brought bad consequences when he needed them.

— How are you, Dad? — Adrien had noticed his irritation.

— Adrien, you know where the... Gorilla comes from — the elder cursed himself for uttering that stupid nickname, but he couldn't even remember the bodyguard's name.

— It must be Russian or German, something like that — the boy hunched his shoulders — Why?

Nothing, nothing important — and once again Gabriel sighed. He had invested all his time in fashion and his designs, he always left the part of the linguistic interaction with Nathalie... — Do you think he could speak Italian? — that was the maximum he could do, Italian and French are close… sure?

— I don't think he even knows how to talk the — boy tried to sound amused, but when he noticed the scowl his father was staring at, he practically dipped his face in his cereal bowl with milk.

The older Agreste took a deep breath and sent a new message, hoping that months of travel to Italy would be worth something:

_._

_Gabriel Agreste says:_

“ _Parla italiano? [06:16]_

_._

_Gorilla says:_

_"Spaghetti? [06:16]_

_._

That was the last straw!

Agreste urgently needed to invest in a language course for that idiot! Nathalie who had handpicked it, just because he was big.

In any case, he needed to act!

So he got up and dropped his son still on the breakfast table. He was going to solve that problem as soon as possible, he needed to find out what Nathalie had gone to do - although he already had some idea of what it was and was not pleased at all: dating end up with anyone's productivity.

.

.

.

Hours had passed and Felix was still sleeping comfortably cuddled in his mother's arms. His vacation had arrived, it was Nathalie's day off and nothing could ruin that lazy Sunday, nothing but a small black cat sticking his paw in his face.

— Plagg... — the boy murmured, trying to take the cat's paws away from him.

— Pretend to be dead, he gets tired... — Nathalie whispered, keeping her eyes closed.

The cat, seeming to notice the strategy, stopped trying to wake the youngest owner and jumped out of bed. He walked elegantly to a bookcase with some books, turning his back to it, lifting his tail and...

— Don't even think, stupid cat! — the woman threatened, by now she was already sitting on the bed and preparing to get up.

Plagg, like the cynicism that only a cat could have, marked territory in three or four limited editions of hardcover that were on the bottom shelf. Nathalie was about to spit fire, ready to get rid of that animal once and for all, but had her hand gripped by Felix as soon as she got up from the bed.

— Mom... — he was already making those irresistible eyes — He's still a puppy, please...

— Okay, okay — she sighed, running her free hand over her face and trying to calm down — He stays, but he'll be castrated! Try to schedule the surgery as soon as possible.

— Ca-castrated? — Felix's eyes widened, surprised by such a severe decision.

— Believe me, if he keeps pissing me off I'll do it myself. This animal needs to understand limits! — Nathalie warned — You can stay in bed a little longer, I'll try to clean this... — she gently detached herself from her son and touched the blond hair, before leaving the room and almost tripping over Plagg, who at the moment, was sitting well midway.

— I'm sorry for you... — the boy commented to the cat, drawing the little cat’s attention to him — I don't think it's personal, maybe if you behave better to my mother, even let this idea go.

All the cat did in relation to her problematic situation was to climb on the bed, rub herself gently on the owner and then spit out a hairball in one of Félix's favorite pajamas.

— My mom is really right about you needing to understand limits — sighed the boy, already wondering how difficult it would be to look after Plagg when they were alone.

.

.

.

Preparing breakfast was a real challenge, since the cabinets were practically empty. It had been almost a month since she rolled to go shopping, save one or another product that she bought in convenience stores on the way back home. She and Félix were only at home on Sundays, it was much more practical to eat out than to spend hours in a supermarket.

— Is that really what you have for breakfast? — the boy spoke with a certain incredulity.

— Something against cranberry ice cream? — asked Nathalie, with a perfect facade of tranquility.

— Nothing — he shrugged — It's just a strange thing to eat in the morning on Sunday...

— If you want, I think there's broccoli in the fridge.

— Ice cream is good anytime! — The boy stopped then, enjoying his glass of ice cream with chocolate icing.

She would need to shop. She couldn't leave her son surviving on potatoes, a half-full jar of ice cream and coffee powder the rest of the vacation.

.

.

.

Gabriel Agreste was in his studio, but he was far from being able to produce any design worthy of his brand. All he could think about was losing the best assistant he ever had because of dating, which would result in a dramatic drop in her efficiency.

It was all guesswork at best. But for Agreste it was all the most absolute and concrete truth: Nathalie had an acute crush.

He couldn't let his assistant ruin his own career - and his a-because of passing love! He needed to interfere with that before it became a structured relationship, maybe even an engagement... at worst, a wedding.

The man shook his head, trying not to let his imagination go too far.

Nathalie was far from the type of woman who wants to enter the church in white or who wants children running around the house. She was the type who was totally dedicated to work, perhaps willing to take care of a cat. He needed to keep it that way for Agreste's sake!

And then, he set about formulating a crazy plan just to keep her busy for the whole week. Gabriel couldn't change his own schedule - he had tried it once and it went completely wrong because he didn't know that he needed to warn others involved in his appointments that he was changing the schedule for something - but he could demand as many random things as possible of Nathalie.

.

.

.

Sunday was not just the day to relax with the family, far from it, it was the day reserved for household chores: cleaning, mowing the lawn, washing clothes and so many other tasks that housewives faced throughout the week and, due to the lack of time, Nathalie condensed everything into one day. Of course, she always relied on Félix's help, but he couldn't help much without straining his injured ankle.

Cleaning the whole house had taken a few hours, but seeing things clean and tidy was relaxing, unlike washing clothes. Such a task was completely tedious for Nathalie: washing, putting it in the dryer and then ironing were simple acts, but knowing which parts could go through the dryer or not was a point that irritated her — fortunately, after doing so many times, she he had already decorated the standards for some fabrics. Setting up the small clothesline in the service area, extending it piece by piece and then retracting it was irritating. Passing over and over so that the folds were perfect was torture.

Escaping from such an obligation for so long caused the clothes to accumulate for more than two weeks, resulting in a mountain of laundry items. There is logistics to solve that without having enough space to wash all your clothes at once!

Luckily, Nathalie was able to put together a flow chart in her mind that would serve her perfectly:

.

Which group has more pieces?

[Light clothes / Dark clothes / Colorful clothes / **ALL** ]

.

Can you wash them all together?

[ **Yes** / No]

.

Are you sure you want to stain your clothes?

[Yes / **No** ]

.

Let's go again: can you wash them all together?

[Yes / **No** ]

.

What is your priority?

[Bedding / Felix's clothes / **Sweaters** ]

.

What about your child's favorite pajamas?

[ **He'll be able to sleep without him** / If he doesn't wash soon, he may stain]

.

Nathalie, be a good mother!

[ **Washing Félix's clothes** / Sweaters, sweaters, sweaters]

.

Anyway, you still have clothes to go to work, right?

[ **No** / Let's say yes]

.

You have a collection of sweaters, there's definitely some left over!

[I still have one / **I ONLY HAVE ONE MORE!** ]

.

You wear the same uniform every day, no one will notice if you repeat the same!

**[Truth / I don't care if you notice]**

.

Nathalie smiled contentedly, separating all of Félix's dark clothes to put in the washing machine. However, she noticed that something seemed to be missing... they had enough pieces, but not as many as she expected.

Then, she remembered a small detail: she had only picked up her son at school, she didn't take anything from him who was there. She needed to resolve this as soon as possible!

.

.

.

The trip to the school where Félix was studying was quick. It didn't take even an hour until everything was settled, the clothes and other trinkets ready to be taken home.

What really took time was lunch: they stopped at the usual restaurant, which was halfway home. The place was more crowded than usual, probably due to the beginning of the holidays. Fortunately, the delay was worth it: the food there was delicious.

Motivated by hunger, mother and son ate as if it were a real feast, leaving only room for dessert: a huge bowl of sundae for each one.

It couldn't get any better!

... But there was a way to lose some of the grace:

Félix noticed a new message on his mother's cell phone and took advantage of her being too focused on not letting her cover run off so she could pick up the device without her noticing. Again, it was a message from her boss:

.

_Gabriel Agreste says:_

“ _Nathalie, where do you keep your message sheets? [12:16]_

.

The boy smirked, captured a photo of Nathalie just as she was stuffing a cherry covered with whipped cream in her mouth and sent it to Agreste, with the following caption:

.

_Nathalie Sancoeur says:_

“ _She's busy guarding cherries! “[12:17]_

.

Felix smiled with satisfaction, once again erasing the messages and evidence of his mischief. Of course, the photo he kept on his cell phone: there were few times when the mother was not wearing the uniform or wearing something overly modest. A real pity, since the dresses fit him well.

.

.

.

Far from there, in the Agreste mansion, Gabriel was unsure whether throwing his cell phone at the wall would relieve stress more than tearing up important contract sheets. He had thought of several things, had several ideas to keep the assistant busy, but what good was that if he wouldn't remember afterwards!? He needed to write it down, but where the hell did Nathalie stick all the papers!?

The only clean papers he found were the ones he used to draw, specific to his work. If he wanted to make a list, it would have to be on an ordinary sheet! He liked things in their proper shapes!

However, the only papers he found were contracts and assessment documents that Nathalie had left for him to sign. That and a small pad of yellowed paper, one glued to the other, which he recognized as the paper she used to attach messages to the table.

The irritation of not finding anything useful made him spill the leaves on the floor as they were discarded for the list function. He texted her, but received only an increase in frustration with such an unethical message from the assistant.

Now, he was kneeling in the middle of that mess and thinking about which method he would use to vent his anger.

— Dad, lunch already... Dad? — Adrien was silent as soon as she entered the studio — Why are you there with all these papers around?

— It's jus ... — he couldn't demand understanding, his artistic mind made him make different decisions from other people — ... more inspiring to sign contracts like that — he lied.

— I see... — whispered the youngest, looking at the mess — Won't you have lunch?

— I will, of course I will — said Gabriel as he stood up — Adrien, would you have some sort of list paper?

— Er... — the boy looked away, already knowing where it would end — After lunch we look for someone.

.

.

.

Felix was worried about his mother.

Nathalie had taken him home, helped guards the things they searched for at school and then went shopping. Both agreed that it was better for Félix to wait at home, the injured ankle would make everything just take longer.

However, he had hidden her cell phone during lunch and completely forgot that it was in his pants pocket. Now, hours and hours later, he blamed himself for not getting news from his mother.

The boy had already read some chapters in some book; he had already devoured the rest of the blackberry ice cream; she had already tried to wash the rest of the clothes - which resulted in a small accident, nothing that the mother needed to know -; he had already played with Plagg and had no more ideas of what to do until she arrived, the worry did not allow the imagination to fertilize.

And then, a message warning made Nathalie's cell phone sound completely different. It was not the quiet noise used for the boss or other professional contacts, it was a sweet touch. A touch that was repeated several times in a few seconds.

Out of curiosity, Félix picked up the device right away and started reading.

.

_Adrien Agreste says:_

“ _Nathalie, we have a problem! [18:44]_

.

Soon after, there was a picture of a man sitting in front of a desk, surrounded by pens, looking completely oblivious around him.

.

_Adrien Agreste says:_

“ _My father found my collection of highlighters! [18:44]_

.

_Adrien Agreste says:_

“ _HOW DO YOU TAKE IT OUT OF MY PENS!?” [18:44]_

.

And, following the message, another photo. This time taken in a closer way, showing several and several crumpled papers, uncapped pens and a man completely focused on what he was doing.

.

Felix knew that Adrien was the son of Gabriel Agreste.

Félix knew that those photos were probably Gabriel Agreste's.

Felix knew he had no reason to be jealous of Adrien, he and his mother shouldn't even see each other often, since she never talked about him...

However, what kind of relationship did the two have for him to have that different touch? What made Agreste Jr think that he could fill Nathalie with problems during his break, just like the other one? What could Felix do to stop that?

The boy smiled, a smile from the corner, as he sent the reply message:

.

_Nathalie Sancoeur says:_

_"Search on Google". [18:45]_

.

New messages came, one after the other. The first of all was a screenshot of the cell phone screen on a search engine, with the following research theme “How do I get my dad to drop my pens?”. The answers obtained were completely random, mostly tutorials on pen customization with a Father's Day theme.

.

_Adrien Agreste says:_

_"Did not work! [18:45]_

.

_Adrien Agreste says:_

_"And now!?" [18:45]_

.

_Adrien Agreste says:_

“ _OMG, he's saying he's going to want the same pens! [18:46]_

.

_Adrien Agreste says:_

“ _NATHALIE HE IS TAKING MY PRECIOUS! [18:46]_

.

Now there was another screenshot. It was the same search site, with the following survey: “How can I keep my father from stealing my pens?”. Again, the responses were completely random and of no use.

.

_Adrien Agreste says:_

“ _YOU NEED TO COME AND STOP IT! [18:46]_

.

_Nathalie Sancoeur says:_

“ _You need to learn to type more than one sentence in the same paragraph, such as:_

_I am busy now, but tomorrow I will work at the same time as always. Try to deal with him until then._

_Good evening. [18:46]_

.

_Adrien Agreste says:_

_"Okay! Good night, Nathalie! ♥ ”[18:46]_

.

That little heart at the end of the sentence made Félix gnash his teeth. So Adrien was really a threat... not a threat like a boyfriend or anything, it was an even worse threat: he was a threat as a borrowed child!

It couldn't be this way, the Agrestes had to understand the limit they were crossing!

Before he could think of anything about it, the door to the house opened and Nathalie came in, out of breath, holding several and several bags in hand. She said nothing at all, just walked slowly to the kitchen and let the heavy handles slip between her fingers.

— Mom? It's all right? Why did it take so long? Why did you buy so many things? — while shooting the questions, the blonde walked in the best way he can to get to where his mother was.

— Weary; long line; we only had coffee powder; you keep everything — was all the woman said as she tried to catch her breath, walking slowly towards the stairs to the second floor.

— What will you want for dinner? — He raised his voice a little so she could hear.

— Anything! — Replied the mother.

.

.

.

Felix could say with all certainty that he was born with two gifts: the first was to be unlucky, an unfortunate born, an unlucky one that not even a rabbit's foot saved; the second was to cook as skillfully as a talented chef, to the point of turning even broccoli and chicken into a gastronomic wonder.

Of course, his second gift was much more appreciated by Nathalie than the first.

After dinner showered with a casual and short conversation about the cares he should be taking alone at home the next day, it was time to do the dishes. Hence Nathalie's displeasure with Felix's first gift came in: he always broke glasses and plates when he went to wash something. As much as she tried to stop her son, he always made a point of wanting to help.

That night, however, she kept him away from the last few glasses he still had with the excuse that he couldn't stand for long due to his injured ankle. Not happy, Felix just watched her clean everything.

He looked at his mother as if he admired a work of art: even with a shabby sweatshirt replacing the beloved sweaters, her hair disheveled and barefoot, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. At least, he saw her as the most beautiful woman in his world, which he considered unfair to other people: the others only knew Nathalie in uniform and serious, he was the only one who knew his mother that way.

And then, spoiling that moment of contemplation, Nathalie's ringing sounded again. Luckily, it was the standard ringtone for professional contacts:

— I knew I had forgotten my cell phone at home! — she commented, somewhat relieved — See what it is for me, son?

— Sure — he smiled even more relieved than she did while looking at the messages, he hadn't taken the blame for keeping the cell phone.

.

_Gabriel Agreste says:_

_"Nathalie, what's my Instagram password?" [20:12]_

.

_Nathalie Sancoeur says:_

“ _Tomorrow we will talk about” [20:12]_

.

_Gabriel Agreste says:_

_"I need it NOW!" [20:12]_

.

_Nathalie Sancoeur says:_

_"Now I'm busy ..." [20:12]_

.

And, as usual, Félix sent a photo of his mother. Unlike the others, there was nothing of interest in the photo, it was just Nathalie doing the dishes. He quickly deleted the photo and messages, leaving only the first.

.

— What was? — The woman asked, looking over her shoulder at her son.

— Your boss wants the Instagram password... — he replied shrugging his shoulders, pretending perfectly that he hadn't done anything.

— Not kitten videos again... — she sighed.

— Do you think he would like it if I sent a photo of Plagg?

— As it is, it is likely to create a line of clothes for cats... — again, she sighed — Speaking of Plagg, put food for this boring — she asked looking at the cat lying on the kitchen floor, sleeping.

— No need — the blonde smiled.

— And why not?

— He ate a lot of things while I was cooking...

It didn't take a word from Nathalie for the boy to understand that she wasn't happy to know that, she just had to nod. The kitten was already too much work alone, if he started to feel sick because of an unbalanced diet, she would not know what else to do.

— Mom... sorry? — he asked quietly, getting out of his chair and going to her, hugging her as tightly as he could.

— If you don't do it anymore, that's fine — despite trying to sound harsh, she was already smiling.


	3. I want coffe

It wasn't even five in the morning when the alarm clock went off in the room. Nathalie quickly reached for the cell phone on the dresser, feeling around the furniture, until she picked up the device and deactivated it before Félix woke up.

Once again, the boy had slept with her. This fact was no surprise or anything out of the ordinary: they always slept together, Felix not being a child did not change the fact that he liked to be with his mother, just as Nathalie had to wake up at four-fifty did not change the fact to enjoy being with the child.

As carefully as possible, she got up and started getting ready for work. Her morning routine did not include anything very sophisticated, just a shower, breakfast, quick makeup and hair clips holding her hair.

Félix being at home only added a few minutes of delay for her to leave, which she spent to say goodbye to her son. It would be easy to get used to a "new" routine during his vacation, at least easier than to get used to tripping over Plagg over and over again in the morning since the little cat got there.

The nearly forty-minute drive to the Mansion Agreste was silent. Nathalie never discussed matters with the taxi drivers, the only thing she said was "Turn off the GPS, take the A-13 or A-14, I'll let you know when I need to change the route". She spent the rest of the trip busy, tidying up and rearranging Gabriel and Adrien's schedule.

Usually, she arrived a few minutes before six: never late. This fact caused her to receive the gate keys in the first week. Rarely were the employees who did not stay late simply to avoid seeing Gabriel in the morning.

.

.

.

From every other day, that Monday was different: Gabriel Agreste made a point of waiting for Nathalie in the hall.

He was too eager to put his machiavellian plan into action. All steps written on a beautiful gray paper of 120 gram weight, elaborate calligraphy, black ink with golden ornaments; small squares playing the role of progress markers for each of the items on your list of evils, the first of which are:

.

_"Get rid of all the coffee powder in the mansion."_

_"Receive Nathalie, letting her know that she won't have any more coffee."_

_._

The man smirked, hearing the door open. He had already crossed out the first box and was now about to cross out the second.

With total absence of delicacy, Nathalie entered the mansion looking like a circus bear: she tried to balance her purse, wallet, cell phone and keys, all while sending an audio message.

— ... I've arrived. Let me know if you need anything! — and, with the recorded message, she sent it. Nathalie was so busy trying to pull the key out of the lock and not drop anything that she hadn't even noticed it was being watched.

— I see perfectly that you arrived, Nathalie. I really need to let you know — Gabriel used his best apathetic tone, when in fact, he was eating away with anger inside.

His suspicions were proven.

That was it.

Nathalie had a boyfriend!

She never, NEVER, sent audio messages. What would it take her to warn someone who had already arrived where she worked, if it weren't for the need to share her life with a lover!? It had nothing to do with her having her hands full! That was the passion's fault!

— Mr Agreste! — the assistant tried to control the tone, letting everything she held slip between her fingers — Good morning... — she spoke in the most indifferent way possible while collecting things, putting on her usual cold mask before continuing — What needs me warn?

— We don't have coffee.

— I'm sure I can handle the coffee maker without the cook's help — she murmured unimportantly, not suffering from the same disabilities as Gabriel.

— Literally, we don't have coffee. None. Zero. Null — he sighed — You know I can't start my day without a Blue Mountain.

— I'll take care of that in a few minutes — again, she didn't care.

— Great! — it took a lot of self-control for him not to start laughing right now — I'll be waiting in the studio — And, having said that, Gabriel walked to his workplace and closed the doors, crossing the second square of his list.

.

.

.

Six-ten in the morning.

The bodyguard was ready to start his tiring day at work, which would consist of standing in front of Adrien's bedroom door. There was not much to do, since the boy was on vacation at school and probably in extra classes.

No task that tiring, or better: boring, could start without good, strong coffee. One mug in the morning and one in the afternoon were enough to keep the man out of sleep. However, as soon as he entered the kitchen, he thought that he would no longer need his precious black coffee to wake up.

There she was: the Russian mobster who wanted to leave her dangerous life behind and look after her son; the woman who was deceiving the Agreste and diverting all her fortune; the dangerous assistant who searched the cabinets like crazy... why was Nathalie searching the cabinets like crazy? Had a bomb been deployed there? Were they all going to die!?

— Stop right there! — she said, before Gorila could return to the safety of her cubicle called room — What do you know about coffee powder?

— Er... — The big guy swallowed some air and tried to think of something. Did he need to include coffee powder theft in his theory? How did Nathalie manage to cover so many different areas of crime? — I don't know anything at all. I did not see anything. I didn't hear anything.

— What the... — she murmured, interrupting her searches for who knows what and looking at her colleague — You can get out without Mr. Agreste noticing, can't you?

— Yes... — he murmured, practically without a voice. How did she know about her nights out?

— Great! — it was almost possible to see a smile on her face — I need you to go to this address and order exactly this type of coffee, but just talk to this person here — the assistant wrote something in one of her yellow self-adhesive squares and handed it to him along with some fat notes.

Gorilla knew where it was going: he would become Nathalie's partner in crimes, being forced to traffic coffee powder with the Russian mafia in order for Felix to remain safe. Accursed the day he took the job there, he would be much better off being security at a mall door!

— What are you waiting for? Will soon! — the woman grunted, giving him a slight push, so she could walk to the door.

The bodyguard got the message and obeyed.

After all, what could you do but obey?

As she watched him go, Nathalie heard the warning of new messages: it was Felix. She quickly took out her cell phone and imagined several terrible things happening, from the house being on fire to even her son tapping his finger on the corner of a piece of furniture. The message read made her even more concerned:

.

_Félix S. says:_

“ _Mom, can you call me? ”[06:14]_

.

.

.

Away from the busy center of Paris, wrapped in blankets and hugged to a pillow, Felix heard for the third time the message that his mother had sent. Plagg, who had recognized the owner's voice, was with him.

.

“ _Son, I don't know if you were really awake when I said goodbye. I'm just texting to let you know that I'm here. Let me know if you need anything! ”._

.

— How can you be without her all day, Plagg? — the boy carefully stroked the black fur of the animal — I know you must have your things to do, but I don't have... not anymore — again, Felix heard the voice message.

Not quite understanding the owner's distress, Plagg leaned against him. It wasn’t enough of an affection, but the cat seemed to be trying to comfort him somehow. Félix smiled with the animal's companionship, sighing long and, finally, having the courage to send a message to his mother.

To the blonde's surprise, the message was viewed at almost the same time and, seconds later, his cell phone was already ringing.

— Mom? He asked hopefully, he hadn't even seen the number of the caller.

— _Felix, what happened? Did something happen? Fire? Plagg? Your ankle? — Nathalie fired the questions in a distressed voice — What happened? Do you want me to come home? Doctor? — she didn't give time for answers, she kept talking and talking. The sound of heels hitting the floor in an anxious way could be heard in the background._

— Nothing happened, I swear! — Felix hurried to warn — But... but if you can really come home and be with me...

The next few seconds were formed from the most complete silence. Not even the sound of the jump hitting the floor was heard.

— _No. — her voice was, in a way, a cold desert: dry and low temperature — Felix, I can't just go home! Has no way!_

— There is never the same way... — he mumbled, making it clear how unpleasant he was with that — I have nothing to do, I'm bored. When my classes return...

— _They will not take classes on anything this vacation — the mother interrupted — You are grounded, remember? And even if you weren't: your ankle is hurt._

— But mom... — the painful mumble was followed by a sigh — Okay, what do I do until you arrive, then? I have NOTHING to do here. I could take Plagg to...

— _No, Felix! No leaving this house without me, understand? — again she interrupted him, making the orders clearer._

— Yes, mom... — the dengo* increased to worrying levels, he was already doing the abandoned cat's eyes — If only he had something interesting to do, like seeing his old photos...

— _... Will you be quiet watching them, without calling me and without texting?_

— If you promise to call me when you can, I promise not to bother you.

— _The box with the photos is in the fourth drawer of the desk... — she sighed, defeated — Please don't take it out of chronological order._

— OK! — He smiled excitedly, getting up and heading towards the hidden treasure.

— _I'll need to hang up now. Behave —she requested, ending the call with no time for goodbyes._

— I always behave... — he mumbled, putting his cell phone in his pocket — Almost always — he corrected himself with a mischievous smile, taking the box of photos carefully from the drawer.

.

.

.

Gorilla was already where I needed to be, stepping on the gas like crazy had its advantages. The place itself was not far: Le Grand Paris was a few blocks away, the paper address was on the hotel's back door.

Somewhat frightened and completely suspicious, the man knocked on the door and waited until someone opened it.

— How can I help? — A tall guy asked, he looked like a skinny penguin in a butler outfit.

— Er... Jean. — Gorilla spoke the name on the paper, trying to look like he at least knew what he was doing.

— Oh! — the man made an expression of surprise and then smiled — At your service! What do you want?

What did that mean? Had Gorilla set the password for smuggling coffee? Did you deliver the money first or ask for the shipment? Damn it! He was going to be jailed for thirty years for breakfast traffic!

— 227 grams of Blue Mountain coffee — replied the bodyguard, holding out the cash notes Nathalie had handed him. How much was there? Where did she get that from? Was that part of what she was deflecting?

— I think I can make an exception for you... — the butler commented, counting the money — Who sent you here?

— E-Er ... — And now? What should I answer? Was it safer to invent a fake name or was it better to name a mobster? Think, Gorilla! Think! — Na-Nathalie Sancoeur.

— Ah! — and, once again, the butler made a surprised expression and smiled — And why didn't you just say it!? I'll be back in an instant! — warned, striding away.

The big man could feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. What would they think if they saw him there? Did more people trade coffee? Was Nathalie the head of a clandestine coffee sales network? Was that guy in blue across the street a guard? Oh gosh...

— Here it is! — The butler announced, returning with a burlap sack with blue letters.

Gorilla didn't thank you or anything - mobsters didn't thank you, right? - he simply grabbed the bag and tried to hide it from the policeman who was across the street. He got into the car and threw the package on the floor of the vehicle, hoping it would not be stopped under any circumstances.

When he arrived at the mansion, he kept the package hidden in the best possible way. He needed to deliver it to Nathalie before anyone found out that he was involved in that criminal transaction.

The big guy went straight to the kitchen looking for his colleague, but only found the cook who seemed to be a little irritated:

— Give me that package soon! Mr. Agreste can only be inspired by this crap! — the chef held out his hand — It has something for you, if you want.

So that was it: Gabriel Agreste consumed hallucinogenic coffee powder, it was explained that he liked those ridiculous ties.

Gorilla urgently needed to reform his theory and add more guidelines, he urgently needed to fill up with coffee... maybe he also needed a vacation, but they would have to wait until he knew the whole truth.

.

.

.

Nathalie had already called her son; he had already told Adrien about his free schedule in the morning; she had already solved the coffee problem - in fact, she was taking a mug to the boss right now. His day, apparently, would be quiet...

— Nathalie, finally! I need you to get an intensive French course that takes a week at most. I also need pens identical to Adrien's, colored papers and a special schedule called "Planner"... — he sighed, trying to remember something else — Ah, and my Instagram password.

— No ... — the voice came out calm, while she put the mug next to the boss and returned to the table itself.

— What do you mean "no"?

— You already speak French; you hate to write; your schedule is digital; can watch kitten videos on Instagram without accessing you account — she listed each of the reasons for refusal on her fingers.

— The course is not for me, it is for... Gorilla — Gabriel said the nickname with a certain contempt — I discovered an artistic form of writing called “lettering” and I need pens, papers and inspirations on Instagram... and I want a “Planner” to supervise my productivity

— The bodyguard speaks French perfectly, his handwriting is horrible and I already supervise his productivity, sir — she faced the boss with one eyebrow raised, ready to fight whatever his justification... she had a teenage son, knew perfectly well how to deal with it.

— How dare you say my handwriting is horrible? — the voice came out irritated — Adrien's pens improved her!

— A pen does not improve anyone's handwriting, sir... — Nathalie sighed, trying to stay calm for that endless tantrum — Did you get Adrien's pens? Those cute, colorful ones?

— I needed them to... set up a project.

— Return Adrien's pens! — the order passed the impression of order, she knew that the colored pens and many other stationery materials, good or bad, was a way to keep Adrien motivated in his studies for hours on end.

— If you give me a good reason... — Gabriel challenged, crossing his arms.

— You can't steal your own son's pens! — She grunted, getting up — Where are they?

— I just borrowed it! — The man turned his face, looking like an offended child.

— Mr Agreste, the pens! — once again she asked, sounding like an order.

.

.

.

Adrien slept stretched out on the bed and half wrapped in blankets. Nathalie had woken him up earlier and told him he would have the morning and afternoon free, so what would be better to do than sleep?

His dreams were too interesting, inspired by his favorite games, full of action, adventure and LadyBug... that character from one of the games was charming in itself, but the mysterious cosplayer was just perfect. Adrien had only spoken to her once, when she had the chance to go to an anime event, but she had to leave before she knew who the future mother of his children was.

The boy was saving his charming companion from adventures when he was awakened abruptly, with his father and Nathalie arguing as they entered the bedroom:

— I don't care about your plans, the pens are from Adrien! — She snarled as she took the various pens to the boy's desk.

— But Nathalie, it's not fair! I can't make my lists without them! — Gabriel continued to insist that it was a valid reason.

— Nathalie, you saved my precious! — the blonde jumped from the bed smiling from ear to ear — I don't even know how to thank you! You're the best! — He grabbed his father's assistant, hugging her and almost lifting off the floor.

She just gave Adrien a smile and touched the blond strands delicately, then looked at the superior with a serious look:

— And if Adrien took her Copics and imported papers to draw, what would she do?

— I would punish him for taking my work tools and, mainly, for wasting on drawings... unfortunately, Adrien has no talent for arts — the older Agreste sighed — But there is no way to compare things that way! I want new pens, Nathalie! — he ordered, again incorporating tantrum in speech.

The woman sighed heavily, knowing she would have to give in sooner or later.

She did not understand how such a kind woman like Emilie had chosen an egocentric, surly and unable to live in society — or rather, unable to even understand the different relationships between people; to be Adrien's father. Or rather: she didn't understand how Emilie managed to stay married to him for so long...

Nathalie shook her head, trying to shake off those thoughts. She could never judge someone for choosing the wrong person, not after choosing an option so wrong and impracticable that it resulted in she being alone with her child.

.

.

.

Hours passed and Felix was bored once more.

He had already scanned all the photos and stored them on his cell phone to make sure he could always see them; he had already tracked his mother's cell phone to find out where she had gone; he had already cleaned Plagg's sandbox... well, maybe tracking his mother's cell phone wasn’t a very sure thing to do, but he wanted to know what she was doing all day in that mansion.

Félix had been surprised at the number of times she had to leave to solve something outside, but he was even more surprised that it was almost one in the afternoon and she hadn't called him. A sign that she was still busy. A sign that the monster she worked for did not understand that a person needs to have lunch!

Measures needed to be taken!

.

.

.

Gorilla was standing in front of Adrien's door.

He was trying to fit the new findings into his theory, focused, until his cell phone vibrated, announcing a new message. Suspicious of being a mafia threat for having smuggled in Nathalie's place, he reluctantly took the device from his pocket.

The sender of the message made the bodyguard look pale, with beads of sweat running down his forehead. The name next to the cell number has been a recurring theme in his thoughts lately.

.

_Félix S. says:_

“ _Ask my mother if she's already had lunch.” [12:44]_

.

What could Gorilla do?

How did that boy have his number?

Did he work for the mafia too?

All those questions disappeared when the studio doors were opened, Nathalie passed them with an annoyed face and two empty mugs in her hands. Without wanting any more disorder for her life, Gorilla was rushed to her and asked:

— Nathalie, did you happen to have lunch today? — He tried to sound as usual as possible.

— That's none of your business, is it? — her voice denounced all the bad mood — I already had lunch! It was the best lunch of my life! — she muttered, walking to the kitchen.

Gorilla made sure to send the answer right away:

.

_Gorilla says:_

_"She already had lunch". [12:45]_

.

_Félix S. says:_

“ _Did you see her eating? [12:45]_

.

_Gorilla says:_

_"... not! [12:46]_

.

_Félix S. says:_

_"Ask her when she had lunch" [12:46]_

.

Luckily for the big guy, Nathalie was passing him again. She held the two mugs full of coffee, still looking bored with something.

— Nathalie, when did you even have lunch? He asked, walking after his colleague once again.

— Twenty minutes ago, I think... — she held out the coffee mugs to him who, without understanding the reason, held the two.

The assistant walked towards one of the windows and only then allowed herself to have one of her coughing fits. That dry, irritating cough had been disrupting her life for the past few days. Luckily it was always when she was out of the studio... and always irritating, leaving the dry throat feeling behind.

— You should request for vacation.

In response, he received a completely icy look from Nathalie. When the coughs stopped and she regained her composure, she practically took the mugs from him and went back to the workplace.

Once again, he sent the answer to his colleague's son:

.

_Gorilla says:_

_"Twenty minutes ago" [12:53]_

.

_Félix S. says:_

“ _Impossible, she was in a fabric store. You should remember, since you took her and searched”[12:54]_

.

_Gorilla says:_

“ _Do you spy on people? ”[12:54]_

.

_Félix S. says:_

“ _What matters here is that my mother is lying and is without lunch. Make her eat! ”[12:54]_

.

_Gorilla says:_

“ _I can't just make your mom eat, felicity! [12:55]_

.

_Gorilla says:_

“ _Felix, in the place of the felicity” [12:55]_

.

_Félix S. says:_

“ _I don't care what you call me, as long as you make my mom eat._

_Just put jam on something and give it to her! How difficult can you see that? Would you prefer me to leave the house, without being able to strain my ankle, and go there? [12:56]_

.

_Félix S. says:_

_"And for the record, she would be irritated with you if I really had to resort to it" [12:56]_

.

It was the end.

Gorilla had already realized that Felix seemed to be a perfect starter, but I didn't think he would be a perfect plague.

The boy certainly knew about his mother's position as head of the coffee mafia and was using it to threaten him. Damn starched boy, who had inherited Nathalie's cruel side and probably Gabriel's annoying side... Was Gabriel really his father? Nathalie had not refused such a hypothesis — although her laughter suggested that it would be impossible.

Heavens... your theory would be reformulated again!

.

.

.

Gabriel was trying not to laugh at his victory over the assistant. He was no longer a good person at his normal, he struggling to be irritating was like hell on earth.

He had asked Nathalie for all sorts of random things, from placing orders in person at five different fabric stores to even using her as a translator for several pages of a random Romanian e-pub that he had arranged on the internet. Of course, the latter aroused overwhelming curiosity in Agreste: was Romania a country? Did Gypsies have their own country? How did they manage to make an e-pub if there shouldn't even be internet there...

— Your coffee, sir… — she whispered through her teeth, holding out the mug.

— Drink a little so I can make sure it's not poisoned, — he asked, crossing his arms and keeping his air apathetic. He did exactly the same thing the other five times he ordered coffee. In the first two he pretended to drop to the ground by accident, in the third he played over some contracts and in the other two he made Nathalie drink practically everything.

— It would be very lucky if it were poisoned… — she murmured, taking just a sip. The assistant hated Blue Mountain, preferred the fort to stay awake.

— I hope it's still warm! — He held the mug, looking at where Nathalie's lipstick mark was so she wouldn't drink in the same place. Could that be considered an indirect kiss? Betrayal? He was still loyal to Emilie as long as he drank in a different place, right?

— I hope you choke to death! — She swore, returning to the table.

Gabriel Agreste was a born artist in his drawings, but he also managed to be talented as an actor. It would make the assistant regret what she said, just as it would make her regret compromising her efficiency by finding a boyfriend.

He took a sip of the drink, then another, then another and then started coughing. An irritating, forced, dry, uncontrollable cough ... it didn't take long before the mug fell from his hand and he needed to cling to the large electronic screen he used to draw. The drama only increased when Nathalie faced the boss, still in doubt as to whether it was a joke or not: he made the cough even worse, his face was completely red when he dropped to the floor on his knees.

— S-Sir Agreste? — Nathalie stood up, nervous, facing the boss — I-I'll get water!

— No! — He extended his hand towards her, but coughed again and withdrew his arm, pressing his own chest. Your stupid plan was being fun — A-Ar...

— Air? Are you out of breath!? — her blue eyes widened — I-I get water? Do I call an ambulance? What do I do!? — his contingency plans did not include the boss dying choked on coffee... maybe with a tie, but not with coffee.

— W-Warn Adrien... — he sighed, coughing a little more then — That... the fault... is... is your...

— I'll send Gorilla to take him to the emergency! — She announced, completely ignoring the accusation and hurriedly leaving the studio before she witnessed the death of the chief himself.

.

.

.

Nathalie walked as fast as the heels allowed and invaded the kitchen, almost putting the doors down. Gorilla was not in front of Adrien's door, he could only be there or in the bathroom — preferably, he would be in the kitchen.

Her gaze was transmitting all the feelings that her face did not pass through: worry, nervousness, anger, hatred, irritation... hunger. Felix was right to worry about his mother running out of lunch, perhaps hunger made her even more irritated by everything.

Gorilla, who was just about to spill almost a bottle of honey on top of several toasts, remained standing in the same spot, partially protected by a marble counter. He understood wild survival, he had seen many reality shows about it: it was enough that he did not make sudden movements, the demonic vixen would approach, eat and then leave without making victims.

— ... Is that honey? And toast? — Nathalie stared at that dish as if she hadn't eaten anything for months, completely forgetting the reason that led her there.

— Yeah... And you can eat as many as you want — the big man spoke softly, carefully pushing the plate towards her and taking a few steps away — I need to go and see if Adrien's room door is still in the same place...

It was a completely stupid excuse, but what did it matter? Nathalie was already salivating just to smell that sweet treat. She just needed to be alone with the helpless toast. Gabriel just needed to survive until she finished eating.

.

.

.

The older Agreste was in his office, stretched out on the floor and staring at the ceiling with some impatience. It had been over three minutes and Nathalie still hadn't shown up there... pretending to be dead wasn't on the list, but it would be fun to add an extra touch of drama to the day. Unfortunately, the assistant was not cooperating.

The two were friends. It was the minimum expected relationship between the two, since Nathalie and he had worked together for years and she had not yet resigned - not that he was really going to let her resign, after all, the contract he made with her was practically a sale of soul.

As a friend, she should be concerned. There was no reason for her to take so long with the help! Unless...

Gabriel sat down on the floor, sulking.

He had made a terrible mistake: he left Nathalie alone for too long. While he "died" on the floor of the studio because of her, the assistant could be melting in love with her boyfriend, talking to him on the phone or something!

Agreste stood up.

Nathalie putting an end to her own efficiency due to dating was a hindrance, but to stop calling his life was absurd! The job needed to come first, so the boss came first in the first place!

Gabriel left the studio with his best scowl, looking around for the assistant. The first thing he found was his son's bodyguard, standing in the same place as always.

— Where's Nathalie? — Agreste's voice came out cold with a slight note of irritation, making it clear that he was irritated.

Gorilla seemed to be nervous about the question, he was probably covering up for his co-worker. All the bodyguard managed to do besides a few incomprehensible grunts was point at the door to the dining room.

Gabriel walked silently, wanted to catch the assistant in the act...

He was disappointed when he entered the room and found no one, but he even gave a singing smile when he heard Nathalie's voice coming from the kitchen. Sneakily, he walked and entered the room. He was crouched behind the counter near the entrance so that the assistant would not see him: he wanted to hear enough to have evidence against her.

.

.

.

Felix was satisfied with his new chess piece: Gorilla. At first, he hadn't liked the Agreste bodyguards at all to know about him, but now he understood how much fun it could be to use Gorilla.

He was even more pleased when he noticed that his orders had been followed: it didn't take five minutes for his cell phone to ring and his mother's picture to appear on the screen. She was taking a lunch break.

— Felix, what did you do? — Nathalie didn't even have time for a "hi" — What did I say about behaving?

— But I behaved! — the boy lied — I just asked your friend if you were okay!

— How many times do I need to remind you that I'm not an idiot, Felix? I know you've been tracking my phone all day! — she paused to eat one of the toasts — I told you not to do that — again, she paused. I could hear the sound of a door slamming in the background.

— But mom! I only did it because... — he was interrupted, before he could explain himself:

— No "but"! — Her voice was much more rigid than before — I want changes in your behavior or I will take more drastic measures! You can't expect confidence if you don't trust me, Felix!

— KNEW YOU HAD A BOYFRIEND! — A male voice shouted in the background.

— SIR AGREESTE! — Nathalie shouted.

After that and a few more incomprehensible noises, the call dropped.

The boy was not happy about it, he needed to find a way to keep Agreste away from his mother, whatever the cost! Even during a lunch break the Agreste could be annoying!

.

.

.

Gabriel had heard Nathalie's last sentences and interpreted it as a fight between her and her secret boyfriend. The only thing worse than the assistant being in love, was that she was in love with a possessive and suspicious person who even tracked her cell phone! What else would this Felix do? Invade the mansion behind it!?

— KNEW YOU HAD A BOYFRIEND! He shouted accusingly, rising from his hiding place and pointing at her.

— SIR AGREESTE! — Nathalie spat the words along with the toast that she had just stuffed in her mouth, starting a coughing crisis due to the fright with the right to even drop her cell phone.

— What...? The superior sighed, trying to understand how his triumphal entry had gone so badly.

— Never... NEVER AGAIN... do this! The woman grunted between coughs, trying to regain her composure.

— Whatever... — he rolled his eyes — You were taking too long, anyway. Enjoy that your cell phone is broken and go back to the studio — the voice came out as apathetic as ever as Gabriel left the kitchen — don't forget to fetch my coffee!

.

.

.

Hours passed; Felix had filled Gorilla with questions about his mother; Adrien had left the house only for a photo shoot; Nathalie was trying not to kill the boss...

Gabriel was still irritated with his assistant. If it were any other of his employees, he would have already fired because of such a lack of professional sense: she preferred to argue with her boyfriend than to help him! But he was talking about Nathalie: it would take five extremely trained people to be able to replace her.

It then remained to irritate the assistant with the last items on her list of evils for the day. There were only two boxes left to cross:

.

_"Send her to get the drawings"._

_"Act like a cat"._

.

Agreste sighed deeply, took a sip of his coffee and spoke, in the most apathetic voice possible:

— I need you to go to the company's headquarters and bring the sketches used for that singer, Clara if I'm not mistaken, at the end of last year.

— Sir... — the assistant looked at him confused — It is already eight at night, isn't it more sensible for me to do this tomorrow morning?

— I want it today! — the chief replied with a serious frown, but deep down he sounded like a spoiled child.

— I have copies of all the sketches, I can print right now if you want — she sighed, preparing to leave the room.

— I don't want copies, I want the originals. I want them on my table, today! — the man added — And it would be good if they were in chronological order, my inspiration works better that way — despite the apathetic face always, he smiled in derision inside.

Nathalie stared at the superior for a few seconds, rummaged through her drawers for the key to his office room and stood up. She did not say a word, because if she opened her mouth, she would certainly be fired for cause.

Nathalie's visits to the company used to be quick, they were restricted to a few times a month when she had to go to meetings at the boss's place, pick up or sign documents and leave the sketches to the technical team. Each time, Gorilla took it and searched.

But that night, the visit was a “punishment”. Gabriel was angry with her and that situation made it more than clear: he had to call a taxi because his colleague urgently had to go and get a parcel from the other side of town just before she needed to leave; he had to explain himself to the security guards, since when he arrived at the huge Agreste building, he had already closed the office hours; had to search for the sketches in the chief's office without concise information...

It took hours. Approximately three.

When he finally returned to the Agreste mansion, carrying several file folders, he still had the job of checking whether they were all in chronological order or not — luckily, most were.

When she was finished, exhausted, it was after midnight.

— Great job — the superior commented with disinterest, looking at the pile of drawings and the assistant's not very satisfied face.

Gabriel was still irritated with her, but he was happy because he was going to cross out the last item on his list of evils. He did something he never imagined doing: like a cat, in the most cynical way possible, he slowly pushed the stack of papers off the table. Nathalie watched the leaves spread across the floor as if everything were in slow motion.

— Oh... — he pretended surprised — You can go home when you finish fixing this — he said simply — Tomorrow morning we will have a video conference, but I want to analyze the drawings first to be based — he commented, while leaving the studio — Don't be late: at six sharp I need you and my coffee.

Agreste closed the door, trying not to give his evil laughs right there. Nathalie, in turn, tried not to tear up all those papers... she was getting tired of putting up with it, the genius of the self-centered artist was testing her limits to the maximum.

If it weren't for a stupid promise to Emilie, she would have already killed the hanged boss with one of his ridiculous ties. However, nothing prevented her from taking revenge in the same game as Gabriel Agreste.

That idea made her smile monstrously, while collecting the drawings. Nathalie would teach him how to be a real machiavellian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dengo = I just didn’t know how to look for a word that would fit here: it’s like a sweet and sad look at the same time, like when a child gets hurt and looks crying just to get more attention...
> 
> Machiavelliam = I’m not sure if machiavellian is also an adjective related to behavior in English. In Portuguese, it can mean someone false, evil, etc.


	4. Blame for peach pie – I

It was already dawn when Félix realized that he would not be able to sleep alone in that house, turning over in bed was not the answer. The boy forced himself out of the warm covers and down the stairs to the living room. He sat in one of the armchairs with Plagg snuggling in his lap... they would wait there.

It was no secret that Nathalie often needed to stay late at work. It was no secret that her cell phone had broken during that last call - Gorilla stated this with a message. It was no secret that the Agrestes were a plague that consumed the lives of employees. They needed to understand limits, basic limits of common sense, which include not letting a woman come home alone so late and incommunicable!

The blonde was thinking meticulously about everything he could do to resolve that situation when key sounds caught his attention. With some anxiety, he waited until the door to the house was opened and the lights were on, only then to exclaim in relief:

— Mom!

— Felix, you should be sleeping... — she murmured, making it clear that she was not in a good mood.

— I was worried about you... we were! — He shrugged, running his hand over Plagg's hair — I didn't know you were coming this late. How many hours of sleep do you have?

— There were too many unforeseen events — the justification came as she dropped the bag in some corner and started to get rid of her shoes — You should know, since you tracked my cell phone and it was still bothering Gorilla.

— So these were exceptional cases? — He raised his eyebrows a little more uneasily.

— Let's say yes.

— How often is Agreste so exploitative with you?

— Go to sleep, Félix — the order came out in a cold tone, she completely ignored the question and, before any refutation could be given, she placed a kiss on the son's forehead and tried to sound a little more mild: — It's too late.

— But… you? — He continued watching his mother, who, at this moment, was removing the hairpins with some urgency — Aren't you going to sleep?

— I will — replied Nathalie, running her hand slowly between the strands of hair and massaging some parts of the head — I will sleep here.

— But... — the boy stared at her in amazement, as if she had said something too absurd to believe — ... spends all day working, arrives at dawn and still sleeps on the couch? Don't you think you deserve better?

— Son... — she sighed heavily — I can't take another step, my spine is hurting. I'm sure I will rest in a dignified way until I need to get up again — she smiled discreetly, settling on the couch — Adults do this kind of thing, they are sacrifices for a greater good — she yawned and, shortly after, she had already fallen asleep due to to tiredness.

Feeling a great burden of guilt, all Felix did was turn off the lights in the room and return to the chair. He would dedicate his hours of rest to a bold plan, something temporary that could free his mother from the clutches of the Agrestes.

.

.

.

Gorilla had been dismissed earlier the day before, shortly after arriving at the Agreste mansion with an urgent order he had to fetch across the city: a slice of peach pie. He didn't quite understand the reason for that, nor the reason to get rid of the boss out of time, but he wouldn't complain.

He devoted his free time to taking notes: he felt that his theories were coming somewhere, no line of thought could be discarded, so little forgotten. He was so committed to what he ended up falling asleep with his face on the notebook, dreaming of the day when his book entitled “Chronicles of Gorilla: the boy, the mobster and the Agreste” would have its launch party.

The fun dream was abruptly interrupted by the cell phone alarm. It wasn't the alarm clock, after all, it was still four in the morning. It was the message alarm:

.

_Nathalie Sancour says:_

“ _Can you come and get me now? Be discreet". [04:14]_

.

Surprised and with a twinge of concern, he sent a reply message while he was already walking through the halls of the mansion in search of car keys.

.

_Gorilla says:_

_"I'm on my way. Did something happen to your son again? Did the coughs get worse? Police?” [04:15]_

.

_Nathalie Sancour says:_

“ _When you get there send a message, don't ring the bell” [04:16]_

.

Knowing that he would not gain more information than that, the man put his full attention on fleeing the mansion with the car without Gabriel waking up. He also needed a lot of focus to try to remember how to get to her friend's house without the GPS.

.

.

.

Felix smiled when the first part of his plan was considered fulfilled. Careful not to make any noise, he went up the stairs again and invaded his mother's room: he was going to start the second part.

He opened the closet doors and started looking for all the clothes she might need for a week, depositing the selected items on the empty bed. At the moment when all the clothes had already been chosen, he started to organize them in a suitcase, leaving only the uniform that his mother would need to wear that day. With equal zeal, he did the same procedure with his own clothes.

When the bags were ready, he dragged them to the edge of the stairs. I felt like I was about to take a vacation trip... a trip to hell on Earth, but a vacation trip anyway.

Lucky for him, Nathalie was in the room, otherwise this part of the plan would take much longer than he had available... no! What was certain was that she didn't have to work so hard for ended up sleeping there!

With no time for more conflicting thoughts, Felix took cat steps towards the room. It was time for the third part of his plan: waking up his mother. It would undoubtedly be the most difficult... he felt partly to blame for her exhaustion.

— Mom? — He called softly, when he was already beside the sofa.

— I already told you to go to sleep, Felix... — she murmured, running her hands over her face in a failed attempt to hide.

— You'll be late for work, it's almost five in the morning...

As if composed of magic words, that sentence made the woman sit on the sofa at the same moment. She looked around quickly, looking for something to confirm the time. Unsuccessfully, she got up and started a sleepy walk to the stairs, being accompanied by her son.

— Felix... why do you have bags near the stairs? — She commented sleepily, before a yawn.

— What do you want for breakfast? — he was quick to divert the subject to something more interesting — Ice cream again? Pancakes? Toast?

— It can be all this together...

The answer made a smile of amusement well on Félix's face. If it were anyone else, he would think the answer was due to sleep, but he knew his mother well enough to know that she would eat all that and what else she saw ahead.

.

.

.

After many wrong streets and turns around the same place, Gorilla had finally arrived at Nathalie's house - sleep had left him more confused than he imagined. He parked, looked around several times until he was sure he had not been followed and only then did he get out of the car, sending a message to Nathalie.

.

_Gorilla says:_

_"I'm already at the door." [05:02]_

.

_Nathalie Sancour says:_

_"Goes into". [05:02]_

.

Not knowing what to expect, the big man put a trembling hand on the handle and pushed as smoothly as he could, in an attempt to make no noise at all. He hoped to meet Russian mafia agents at a meeting; a crime scene; maybe even find Gabriel waiting on the couch, just to point at him and say something stupid like “I knew you used the car without permission!”; he just didn't expect to find Félix with a pink apron and a frying pan in his hand...

— Take the bags that are at the edge of the stairs to the car, don't make any noise — was all the boy said before going back to the kitchen.

— Bags? What happened? Where is your mother? — Gorilla asked, stagnating in the same place and not sure if he should follow orders or go after Felix.

— Bags, suitcases, those with wheels and handles, are at the top of the stairs... — the blonde sighed — You are really stupid, aren't you? How difficult is it to follow such a simple order? — He returned to the living room, leaning against the door and facing Gorilla with a certain disdain.

Acting like that, Felix didn't remember Adrien at all... but he did remember Gabriel. The contemptuous way of looking, the air of superiority and the ironic tone in practically every word. However, Félix was not his boss or anything, so he could be treated as he should:

— I'll only pick up the bags when you answer the other two questions, unless it's too difficult for you to explain what's going on and I have to ask your mother… that is, if she knows what you're doing — The big guy smiled in a corner.

— Do not you dare! — he spat the words in irritation, approaching with slow steps as if he were going to set up a boat on top of the prey — My mother is in the bath, she is going to go out there, eat and go to work... the rest is not your account, since I just need you to take us there.

— Us? Of us? You go along?

— Exactly, I will be close to you all day... it will be fun, don't you think? — He gave a thin smile of mockery — Now, go get the bags! Then wait for us in the car — the order was accompanied by an even more icy look. It was as if that boy's manner was the perfect blend of Gabriel and Nathalie's coldness.

There was no time for questions or conversation, he needed to follow the orders of that mobster project - he was starting to make sure he was Gabriel's bastard son. The greatest proof I had of this, despite so little time spent together, is that Félix was potentially dangerous and extremely manipulative, he was the type who had what he wanted for better or worse... just like his father?

.

.

.

Nathalie didn't have the energy to ask again about the bags at the edge of the stairs; about having only one uniform on the bed and none in the cupboards; about Felix gathering ice cream, pancakes and croissants and forgetting the jam for breakfast. But she couldn't keep quiet when she passed the door and the Agreste's car was parked in front of the gate.

— Felix, explanations — she demanded as she took a few steps towards the car.

— It would be right for him to come and pick you up every day, right? — the boy replied calmly while locking the house door.

— I said explanations, not opinion — the words took on a much more rigid form as she stared at the blond boy.

— We're going to spend a few days at work — he finally replied, avoiding looking at his mother as much as possible.

— Felix! — She crossed her arms, clearly annoyed.

— Just until the ankle is fine again and I can go back to my extra classes, that's all! I promise that I will not disturb you and that Plagg will be quiet... — he took the little black animal in his arms, as if it were a baby — ... and it will also be good for you, you will be able to rest more — he smiled, a sweet smile accompanied by that irresistible look.

— Felix... — she sighed, defeated. In the end, he just wanted to take care of her. A good intention with completely muddy acts — Promise to behave.

— I promise — he moved closer to his mother, putting an arm around her waist — we promise, don't we, Plagg? — The cat gave a thin “meow”, seeming to agree with the question.

— If you break that promise, you're dead. — Nathalie threatened with a tone serious enough that the son had no chance to reply.

.

.

.

The drive to the Agreste mansion was done in complete silence. Nathalie had fallen asleep as soon as she got in the vehicle, Felix seemed to be distracted enough by fiddling with his cell phone and Plagg was sitting in the front seat, next to Gorilla, looking at the view and occasionally licking his hair.

Because it was still very early, the streets of Paris were completely empty. This fact, together with the anguish that the driver was feeling in being “alone” with Félix in the car, made the route to be faced with higher than average speeds, allowing them to reach the mansion with time to spare.

— So this is it? — Félix commented as soon as the car parked in front of the iron gates — I expected something bigger...

— As big as your house? — Gorilla grunted.

— No, as big as the other mansions on this same street. For someone self-centered and petty, I imagined that Gabriel Agreste would want to live in a castle or something — the youngest hunched his shoulders.

— It's not like he didn't want to... — Nathalie commented as she stretched — What time?

— Exactly twenty minutes to six — the son replied, taking one last look at his cell phone and then stuffing it into his pocket.

— Great! — she smiled from the corner, looking for something inside the bag — Can you go to the pharmacy and bring me these things? But it needs to be as fast as you can — she held out a small paper with some things written down for Gorilla.

Without having much choice besides to help Nathalie, the big guy nodded positively. He waited for the two of them to get out of the car - three, if they count on Plagg -, handed over their bags and then went to some pharmacy to carry out the order.

Gorila knew that his colleague's order could be just any purchase that she didn't have time to make, he clung to that small possibility until he was already inside the pharmacy and finally saw what was written on the paper. He took a deep breath and tried not to arouse anyone's suspicions while handing it over to one of the attendants.

.

_Any medicine for constipation, liquid;_

_A disposable syringe with needle;_

_Pararosaniline Chloride;_

.

On that little paper was written the necessary ingredients for something much worse than illicit drug trafficking... Nathalie was going to kill the poisoned Mr. Agreste and he would be the accomplice!

.

.

.

While the bodyguard faced moral dilemmas, still in doubt as to whether it was safe to take the murder weapons to Nathalie, she was showing her son's lodgings for employees.

— And this is where we're going to stay, since you think you're the best — She opened the door to one of the small rooms.

— It looks good to me — Felix hunched his shoulders — Let's just sleep here, it doesn't have to be big...

— Just sleep? — She raised an eyebrow — You will be here all day. I don't want you walking around the mansion, Felix!

— But mom...

— No "but"!

— The cook won't be able to come this week, I thought I could take his place. It would be fun and a new experience, besides helping you... — he already had that irresistible look again.

— Why couldn't he come? And how would you know that?

— Your cell phone was broken, I put the chip in my device. It looks like he had a family emergency and will need a few days off, in fact, he was very clear when he said he could stay even a month off for all the overtime he had to do — while explaining, he pushed his bags into the room — It seems that it's not just you who suffers from the Agreste.

Before she could answer anything, a huge figure approached them down the hall: Gorilla was already back. She smiled noticing the pharmacy packaging in his hands... her plan was going to start!

— I don't have time to find someone else today and for that reason, just for that reason, you can take his place — and, before the boy got too excited, she warned again: — it's just today, Felix. Tomorrow you will be locked in that room all day. You can go to the kitchen, nothing more, any questions ask him — she looked at Gorila for a few seconds — And, most importantly: don't go to the studio at all.

— Yes, Mom .. — he smiled, knowing perfectly what he would need to do and how to do it.

Gorilla had no idea what they were talking about, nor did he pay attention to that suspicious smile of Felix - the boy was up to something. All of his attention was devoted to something he hadn't noticed before, perhaps because the blonde was always alone, sitting in the car or leaning on Nathalie when he saw him: he was taller than his own mother. How old was he? How old was she?

— Great! — Nathalie smiled a little, taking the packages from the bodyguard's hands and starting to walk down the corridors with the maximum speed that the heels allowed her to have.

— It seems that now it's just the two of us... — the blonde stared at the big guy, smiling a little more — Let's go to the kitchen. Do you want coffee?

— No, not today... — he replied somewhat sulkily, the new "little master" being so close would be too dangerous.

.

.

.

Nathalie went up the stairs practically skipping the steps and made a little run until she reached the door to Gabriel's room. She could easily count on her fingers every time she went to that door since Emilie was no longer there:

One when he literally had to drag Mr. Agreste back to work, when he failed to deal with his wife's absence; one when he tried to drink to forget the pain and ended up in a sorry state, leaving Nathalie and Gorilla to take care of him; and now, one to get your plan started.

Sneakily, she opened the door and went inside.

The huge, luxurious room had remained exactly the same for years, as if Emilie was going to appear at any moment and things would continue where they left off. This made Nathalie smile with sweet memories until Gabriel's voice drove her out of such thoughts:

— Peach pie! — he practically shouted and Nathalie thought she had been caught. However, he was just talking in his sleep, probably dreaming of "forbidden" sweets again.

The assistant tried to walk as quietly as possible towards the bathroom, but when her hand reached for the doorknob she heard crackles coming from the bed. She turned her head slowly, feeling all the muscles lock and her throat dry with what she was seeing: Gabriel had sat on the bed, he seemed to be pondering all the charges he could make against her.

— Se-sir… — she whispered, but was interrupted.

— Nathalie... — he said in a low, cold tone, staring at his hands — Nathalie, scratch my back — ordered with the usual indifferent tone.

— Scratch your... what? — She stared at the superior, frightened, until finally she understood everything that was happening and felt her muscles relax completely, calm again: he was only sleepwalking. If Agreste was sleeping, a sign that he would not wake up anytime soon.

Taking courage and anxiety to put her plan into practice, she finally opened the bathroom door and slipped out, observing the wide variety of products the boss used. It was no secret that, as a "public figure" and renowned stylist, Gabriel Agreste was a vain creature. The assistant knew by heart and sauté all the products he used and what each one of them was for, especially the beloved shampoo to revitalize the hair color on days of face-to-face events or videoconferences.

A vile smile broke out on her lips as she took the tube. The smile only increased when she opened the pharmacy shopping bag, taking out the syringe and Pararosaniline Chloride. Skillfully, she filled the syringe tube with the violet liquid; carefully, she injected all the colored content into the tube. Then, it was enough to shake the packaging a lot and put it in the same place.

First part of his revenge: done!

She took the evidence of the crime and left the bathroom as quietly as she could, walked around the room with enough zeal to make no noise. When he finally reached the door leading to the corridor, he managed to close it just in time to hear Agreste's alarm ring.

Nathalie should have gone to work out some preparations, but she couldn't help herself and knocked lightly on the door. She waited until a "what is it !?" in irritated be heard to, finally, be satisfied:

— I just want to remind you that in an hour we will have a video conference with Russian investors, sir. He said he was interested in seeing the drawings that were made for Miss Nightingale before, they are all in order in the studio — her voice came out even with a hint of malice, she loved to waste her efficiency and prove that she could exceed the expectations of the higher.

— Wake up Adrien, I want to instruct you on how to take care of the clothes in today's photo shoot — although sleepy, Gabriel's voice kept its tone irritated.

— As you wish, sir — she replied, smiling even more: chance was in her favor.

.

.

.

After waking Adrien, Nathalie went back to the kitchen and watched her son prepare breakfast. She helped Félix find some utensils and explained all the food restrictions of the Agreste.

— is there an employee to serve meals or do i need to do that? —  The boy asked as he finished preparing one of the trays.

— You are forbidden to leave the kitchen, remember? I'll take it myself.

— And then come back and stay with me?

— No, later I will start to work and you will behave — she looked at the boy, holding his chin with one hand and making him look at her — Do you understand?

— I always behave — he smiled.

— Of course... — she said mockingly and rolling his eyes.

Before she could be challenged or reminded of the "several" times when he actually behaved, she held the trays and carried them to the dining room.

Taking advantage of being alone, she took one more of her weapons out of her pocket: the medicine for constipation. Gabriel would not die from ingesting it diluted in coffee, he would just be busy enough that she would be at peace and be able to put her work back.

Slowly she began to drip the drops of medicine into the coffee, but a roar of hatred and melancholy echoing through the house made it spill a little further than it should. Recognizing that it must be Gabriel's reaction to his “special shampoo”, she quickly put the medicine bottle in her pocket and waited patiently.

— Mom, did you hear that? — Felix asked sticking his head out of the kitchen door.

— I heard... — she commented with a smile — Now close the door and pretend you won't hear anything.

— But... — Before he could ask any further questions, the blonde heard footsteps and thought it best to hide again.

The steps, fast and fast, were Adrien's. He came into the room almost putting the doors down, out of breath. The boy looked around and didn't seem to understand what was going on, until he noticed Nathalie in that room too.

— Did you hear that too? — the voice came in part worried — It looked like an animal being run over...

— I heard, but I believe it is your... — and, before she could complete her explanation, she was interrupted by another shout:

— NATHALIE! — Gabriel barked, entering the room wrapped in his terry bathrobe — WHAT DOES THIS MEAN!? — he pointed to his own head.

The hair that was once platinum blonde was now completely purple. Not only the hair: Gabriel's hands and all the skin where the shampoo foam came into contact with was violet. The robe was stained several times, as well as the floor would probably be stained by the purple water dripping from it.

With a coldness that could only be acquired after working for so many years for Agreste, Nathalie managed to pretend that she had absolutely nothing wrong with him and simply commented:

— Is the purple in your hair to match your red pants, sir?

Adrien, unable to control her impulses in such a robotic way, sat down at the table and hid her face in her arms. It was a failed attempt to prevent his laughter from being heard by his father.

— Nathalie... — the older one gnashed between his teeth, there was no way to blame her for that and neither demand that she notice — Cancel today's meeting.

— Impossible, sir — she straightened her hair — It has been scheduled for weeks and they are very important investors. It's a perfect chance to attract the attention of...

— I can't appear in public like that! — Gabriel tapped one foot impatiently — Cancel.

The assistant sighed, trying to maintain her facade of indifference. She was about to challenge the superior again, but Adrien was faster than she was:

— Dad... — the boy took a deep breath and stopped laughing before continuing — Colored hair is in fashion, they will like it!

The older Agreste didn't say a word, just nodded and then turned his back on them, marching back to his own room. At least the purple color of the skin he needed to remove.

.

.

.

It was not an easy day for Gabriel.

His hands were still purple; his hair was ruined; his son had been unable to concentrate on his orders because he was laughing - he didn't blame him, anything that a person with purple hair said sounded a lot funnier than usual; he didn't have time to look at the sketches; he depended on Nathalie to save him with the meeting, which made him blame himself for having irritated her so much the day before.

— Starts in a minute, sir — she commented as she finished positioning the tablet camera for him.

— Is it really necessary for me to show up? You have complete freedom to represent me... — His voice came out tired, as if being ridiculous was draining his strength.

— They want to debate ideas before making the entry. Agreste fashion shows in Moscow, St. Petersburg, Kiev and Novosibirsk will attract the attention of a new audience — the assistant commented calmly.

— What about Istanbul? — He raised an eyebrow.

— First we focus on Russia, then Turkey — Nathalie pretended perfectly not to notice the small mistake while the superior suffered a slight drop in his pride.

— Nathalie, I want to ask for something — he rested his hands on the table, unable to look directly at her.

— Yes? — The woman's blue eyes focused completely on him. She was too surprised, she was about to receive a request that even Emilie hadn't received when she was there: sorry.

— Appear on the videoconference next to me, I don't want to spend this embarrassment alone.

— No! — She turned her face, extremely disappointed that it was such a request. Years passed and Gabriel Agreste still did not know how to talk.

— You can charge like overtime! — Gabriel tried to negotiate.

— It's still not!

— Please... please? — and in the end, he let hurt pride guide his common sense. He needed someone next to him to get the attention out of his completely purple hair. Who better than Nathalie and her red stir for that?

Nathalie answered absolutely nothing, just sighed and positioned herself next to the superior. As a translator between him and the investors, it would really be easier to participate directly.

— Thank you — murmured the chief, adjusting his posture and placing his hands behind his back.

— I want overtime and leave early on Friday — she said quietly.

Before Agreste could reply to that unilateral agreement, the video conference started. Those meetings were completely boring: at first he was more participatory, but it didn't take even five minutes for him to be irritated by not understanding anything in the foreign language and to focus his attention on something else. He didn't mind giving answers to questions, he left it to the assistant's care, after all, she took care of the bureaucratic and he of the creative.

Sometimes he found himself admiring how Nathalie managed to translate everything in real time. She had interesting skills that should be exploited to the fullest - not exactly recognized, just used for a greater good.

As if it were not enough to ramble about the assistant, Agreste lost practically the entire course of the meeting because he was unsure about his studio: there was something wrong with him. The contrast between black and white was the same and he liked it, but there was something out of the ordinary, something that was disturbing the harmony of the environment and leaving him completely disoriented in the middle of that mess of prints.

— Sir... — she drew the man's attention to herself — they praised her choice in hair color, said that it is an interesting combination with red.

— Thank me for me, Nathalie.

She nodded and did as she was asked, but immediately put a hand over her lips, as if trying to catch a laugh, and then caught Gabriel's attention again.

— Sir... They said he should open more buttons on his shirt, he would be more youthful.

— Thank me again, Nathalie... — it took a few seconds before he really understood what was said, too late to change his mind: the assistant had already told them the thanks — They said what?

— They are saying goodbye now, sir.

— Tell them to go to hell! — he growled.

— Wouldn't it be better to send three kisses? — She raised an eyebrow.

— Do what you want, I just want this meeting closed.

The woman agreed and exchanged a few more sentences with the Russians. It didn't take long before the videoconference ended and Nathalie returned to her own table: she needed to work.

— They should send the signed contract in a few hours — she commented while smoothing some papers — I would say that the meeting was a success almost as big as your new hair color, sir.

— I don't want to hear any more comments about my hair, understand? — he said coldly.

.

.

.

Hours passed, Nathalie had gone several times to the kitchen to ensure that Felix was behaving and to get coffee - adding a few drops of the medicine in Gabriel's cups, after all, he would not die from that.

The universe had conspired in her favor: the small changes she made to the decoration of the studio seemed to have been noticed, causing Gabriel some discomfort; although he is a fan of virtual methods, he spent much of the day coloring some sketches in the traditional way and writhing in rage every time he picked up a wrong colored marker - Nathalie had changed almost every's caps.

He looked terrible, visibly drained from the headaches; there were also sweat droplets gathering on his forehead, a sign that the medicine had already begun to take effect. In addition to all this, there was still the emotional being hurt: Adrien had barely managed to touch the food because, just on one of the few days when he was able to have lunch with his father, he was unable to do anything but stop laughing because of that hair violet.

And now, Nathalie was smiling and savoring her revenge while the Agrestes were enjoying the lunch that Felix had prepared.

Even the choice of dish had helped the assistant: soup. A beautiful soup, but with the broth forming small patterns on Gabriel's plate, which only made his nausea stronger than his hunger.

— I... — he murmured, leaving the silverware on the table — excuse me.

With long, rigid steps, he practically fled that room and left the other two behind. Adrien finally let his giggles escape, relieved and partly to blame for his father's abandoning lunch. Nathalie continued to smile, victorious.

— Is the father okay? — the blonde finally asked, wiping a tear from the laughter and then facing the assistant — He will be fine, right?

— Of course... — she sighed — It's just been a hard day, better let him rest.

— Do I have something in the afternoon to do?

— Nothing at all, Adrien — she took the tablet to check — Is the lunch tasty?

— Its amazing! — the boy smiled — It looks like the special soup from Le Grand Paris, only it tastes even better.

— That's great — she smiled, would tell the compliments to Felix later.

.

.

.

Adrien had enjoyed the food so much that it devoured not only his lunch, but Gabriel's as well. Nathalie would never tell him that he ran off the diet, so there was no problem with him doing this kind of thing with her being the only witness. Lunch over, she went back to the kitchen eager to pour out all the praise that the youngest Agreste had paid for the soup.

— Son... — before she could speak any more words, Félix interrupted her.

— I swear I didn't do anything, I swear! I really behaved! You can ask the Gorilla, he's a witness! I behaved! — The boy looked panicked, holding his cell phone with one hand and Plagg with the other.

— Felix, what are you talking about? — Nathalie walked over to him as fast as she could, grabbing the boy's chin with one hand and forcing him to look at her — Calm down and answer!

Gorilla, who was in the kitchen too, remained silent. He had only been there during the time that Adrien stayed in the salon, he was pressured to wash all the dishes because Félix assured: "my mother will be irritated if I strain my ankle for so long". He was not a witness that the child mobster had really behaved all day, but he could assure that the blonde had done nothing wrong in his presence.

— Please, don't kill me... — The blonde handed his cell phone and hugged her.

It was open in the messaging apps with one of the conversations open, the name was very familiar. By the time of the message, I had arrived seconds before Nathalie entered the kitchen.

.

_Gabriel Agreste says:_

_"Nathalie, I'm dying". [12:32]_

.

_Gabriel Agreste says:_

_"Call the lawyer, I need to redo the testament". [12:32]_

.

_Gabriel Agreste says:_

_"It's your fault! ”. [12:33]_

.

_Gabriel Agreste says:_

“ _Can you come here, NOW !? “. [12:33]_

.

_Gabriel Agreste says:_

“ _If it takes more than five minutes, you will be excluded from the testament ”. [12:33]_


	5. Blame for peach pie — II

After reading the messages, Nathalie sighed and stared at her son for a few moments. Of course, it was not his fault, but she couldn't explain that revenge that encourages him to behave the same way.

— I will believe that you have nothing to do with it — carefully, she messed with her blond hair — However, you already know what will happen in case of a slip — the voice came out hard, it just wasn't a threat because it was a warning .

— I know... — Felix confirmed, hugging her a little more — Will you need to go now?

— I will... — the answer was followed by a kiss on the forehead. Nathalie kindly made him let go. — You don't have to wait for me to have lunch — she said as she took a few steps toward the door.

.

.

.

Gabriel is dramatic in itself.

Men are usually dramatic when sick.

Gabriel was dramatic beyond human capacity.

After the failed attempt at lunch, the only thing he was able to do to try to get rid of all the sickness and discomfort was to hide in the bathroom and "put everything out". Now, almost an hour later, he had nothing left to be "put away" and he still felt bad, with an absolute certainty that he would die if he continued like this.

So he did the only thing he could: he filled Nathalie with messages.

Dying in a depressing way was acceptable, after all, you couldn't exactly choose a way to die - but he would like it much more if it were a glamorous way -; however, dying alone was out of the question!

For a few minutes, Gabriel considered sending messages to his son and asking him to go over there to hear his last words, but it was enough to remember the figure of the boy laughing at him because of his purple hair to change his mind. It needed to be someone capable of maintaining seriousness, something compatible with that funeral moment... it needed to be Nathalie.

And speaking of the demon, it appeared to be her knocking on the bedroom door:

— Mister Agreste!? — Nathalie asked in a louder tone, knocking twice on the door — Are you okay?

— No! I suck! — he shouted, sprawling on the floor of the bathroom.

— Do you want me to come in!?

— Of course yes! I didn't call you to spend my last strength yelling at you!

He heard the bedroom door open and then close. The sound of Nathalie's heels hitting the floor was annoying, it seemed much louder now that he had his head stuck to the ground.

— Sir, is everything okay in there? — She asked in a slightly concerned tone.

— It's not all right, Nathalie. I am dying!

— From the smell that's coming from there, I don't doubt it.

— Will you be joking or help me have a dignified death !? Get in that damn bathroom and help me! — ordered, after all, sick or not he was still Gabriel Agreste.

— That wouldn't be professional at all! — the assistant immediately warned — I am not paid for this kind of thing... — she muttered stressed, before finally asking for something rational: — Please, get out of there!

— If I could stand on my own, I would have left! — Agreste snarled — Get in here and help me have a dignified death, Nathalie!

— Before: what should I expect to see? I don't want to be shocked or anything, so I'd like to be warned about possible nudity or gore scene first, sir, — she asked as she turned the handle.

— You will only see a dying man wearing magnificent clothes that match purple hair, thrown on the floor and with no chance of getting up because of a terrible disease, which ended up with one of the biggest names in fashion in Paris and…

— It looks like a child making a prank! — the assistant interrupted the melodramatic speech, looking at him with her typical expression of indifference — You need a cold bath, medicine and a few hours of sleep.

— I already said that I can't even stand up... — the man squirmed on the floor — I'm like an empty shell that can't even stand on its own.

— It is not the time for you to start to know about your self-image — Nathalie rolled her eyes — I will want a bonus for what I will do...

— Anything since you... — Before he could finish, Agreste stared at the assistant for a few seconds. Her face was reddened, but the look was like that of a beast cornering its prey — Nathalie, what are you going to do? — He asked as he tried to sit up.

— What needs to be done, sir. — The voice was drenched in the sweet taste of revenge, or rather, the poison that dripped from her words.

Gabriel tried to crawl away and seek shelter, but he had his feet caught by the assistant and was pulled across the bathroom floor. She dragged him to the shower stall and, before he could tell her to stop or scream for help, the woman started tearing off his clothes.

— NATHALIE! — he barked as he tried to hold her hands away from his own body — That being understood as sexual harassment, you know !?

— If I were to harass someone, sir, I would prefer the bodyguard! — despite showing an irritated image, inside she was laughing — I just need you to take your clothes off so you don't get them wet when I open the shower.

— I... I shoot, but alone — murmured Agreste with a completely red face — And with you looking the other way...

— Sir... — the assistant rolled her eyes.

— I'm a married man, Nathalie!

— And there's nothing I haven't seen before... — again, she rolled her eyes — I don't have all day! If I help, we'll get this over with faster.

— Then keep your eyes closed. — Gabriel crossed his arms, sulking and his face almost as red as his pants.

— If that's what you want... — she sighed, defeated — But the chances of me touching something wrong is much greater with me with my eyes closed, sir.

In response, Agreste murmured something in a whisper as he began to unbutton the few pieces of clothing he still wore. It didn't take long before he was completely naked, huddled and trying to hide from Nathalie, even though she had her eyes closed.

— Are you ready, sir? — the woman tried her best not to let the fun take over her voice.

— Ready for the exactly... — and, before he could finish the question, he was hit by the shower's water jet.

The assistant squirmed to don’t get a laugh. Gabriel Agreste practically drowned in the shower water, making him look like a clumsy duck while trying to get rid of the cold water and the fright of being caught off guard.

It was going to be a fun day.

.

.

.

While Nathalie was enjoying her revenge, Gorilla was washing up in the kitchen.

It was incredible the amount of utensils and other knick-knacks that were dirty after a simple lunch. Probably Felix had dirtied more than necessary just to keep him distracted while helping his mother steal the mansion's safe or something...

A snap made him stop what he was doing.

The man dried his hands as best he could in his apron and in long strides he walked to his own room. He took the notebook in his hands and began to write it down: there were doubts that he needed to resolve and, as he did not know when he could ask Nathalie something, it was best to record them all.

.

_How old is Nathalie?_

_How old is Félix?_

_How many years have you been working here?_

_Have you been to Russia how many times?_

_Who is Félix's father?_

_Are you involved with Emilie's disappearance?_

_Have family?_

_Is hallucinogenic coffee trafficking profitable?_

.

Satisfied that he had managed to write down so many important doubts, Gorilla returned to the kitchen. He committed himself to washing all the dishes while humming some song, trying to create some connection between the possible answers to his questions.

.

.

.

Félix was in his new room, hunched over the bed and enjoying reading the first pages of one of his favorite books called: “The adventures of LadyBug and ChatNoir”. It was a children's work, one that reads a tale a night before going to bed, but he devoured all those tales in a few hours. Despite having read countless times, he never got tired of that book of fantasy stories and full of illustrations.

Perhaps, the part that best decorated all those adventures, was the dedication. He read the small paragraphs written by hand hundreds of times as if, by magic, he could guess the name hidden in the abbreviations.

.

“ _Nathalie,_

_When I saw this book in a shop window on my last trip to France, I couldn't leave it behind. I brought it as a small souvenir for you, since you were unable to accompany me._

_I know the stories are childish, but I found a great way for you to get to know this beautiful language: the language of love._

_With immense affection, M. A. ”_

.

Nathalie never said a word about who M. A. was, but Felix faithfully believed that those abbreviations belonged to his father. Whenever he tried to ask, she always shied away or gave some absurd explanation... over time, the boy simply gave up trying to solve his doubts for her and began to fantasize that that book had been a way for them to get closer.

Interrupting his owner's reading, Plagg slid between himself and the book and started trying to capture one of the illustrations. Noticing the potential danger hidden in the cat's sharp nails, Félix ended his reading and took the animal in his arms.

— You don't know how to be quiet for two minutes, do you? — he stroked black hair.

As if he had been offended by that question, Plagg managed to jump off his lap and slip to the floor. Quick, as if trying to get rid of more sermon, the animal fled through the bedroom door and ran down the hall as fast as it could. Felix went after him while blaming his bad luck curse for everything.

The two ran through the corridors, the mansion hall and the stairs. Fortunately, he had no one to witness the ease with which Plagg escaped the owner.

The chase continued until the little kitten came in through one of the doors - which was probably left just leaning. The blonde also invaded the room, stumbling and bumping into one or the other furniture while the chase continued.

When he finally managed to catch Plagg in his lap again and prevent him from running away, he managed to notice where they were probably: it was the bedroom of one of the Agreste. As if it could not get any worse: the owner of the room was lying on the bed... looking puzzled at his visitors.

.

.

.

After a cold shower accompanied by a crazy assistant rubbing a rough sponge from the back, Gabriel was wrapped up in his terry robe and wondering what kind of clothes could be used to die. He needed to be comfortable, but he also needed to be presentable: the press would definitely follow everything.

— Here — Nathalie handed him a set of sleepwear.

— This is not worthy — Agreste turned his face — I need something more formal than pajamas.

— A suit? — She raised an eyebrow.

— It is not for that, it can be something more stripped... — sighed, writhing and feeling death even closer — And in dark tones.

Having no idea what to look for, the assistant went into the closet and scanned all the pieces that were in sight. Gabriel had a strange habit of spending months wearing the same shades in all clothes, then renewing all the pieces with a new tone. Unfortunately for her, the color of the moment was red.

— Nathalie, I need something that matches purple! — the superior warned.

— You need to wear the pajamas I gave you before — without the patience for more searches, she went back to the room and faced Agreste — either that or a beautiful butterfly-print boxer.

— But Nathalie...

— Or stay in your bathrobe! — she crossed her arms.

Like an upset child, Gabriel started putting on his pajamas doing his best not to be exposed again. Nothing really that difficult, but a challenge for a person on the verge of death who could barely stand without leaning on the bed...

— What are you feeling? — she tried to look minimally worried, but in truth she was satisfied. If Agreste was really bad, he would leave her alone for at least two days.

— Pain in the stomach, pain, nausea, pain... — with each word, the features took on an even more distressed look — Have you called the lawyer? I need to review my will.

— Sir, I do not think his illness is so serious... unfortunately — the last word she said in a hushed whisper — But I have already scheduled a visit from him for next week.

— Next week I may already be dead and buried! — Gabriel replied, settling himself in the middle of the various pillows on the bed — The last time I touched Emilie's will was still here. I need to make sure you keep everything, including Adrien's guard...

Nathalie blinked a few times without believing that he was really willing to do that. Such a surprise did not go unnoticed by Gabriel, so he continued:

— Yes, Nathalie. You will keep everything in your possession until Adrien is of age, after that only Agreste's management and my entire brand are left for you. Adrien will be fine just with the actions and with your help... — the man sighed, rubbing his temples — I need to add the clause that you will have to take care of him for the rest of your life.

— I would do it anyway! — she mumbled, throwing one of the pillows on top of him — I'm just surprised that you trust me so much...

— I pay you well enough for you to be reliable — he shrugged — And I am a creature on the verge of death, I can make wrong decisions without worrying about the consequences.

— No, you can't.

— Why not?

— Because you are not on the verge of death!

— I understand that it is a shock, something too difficult for you to overcome now, but I am dying, Nathalie. I'm sorry, you will have to deal with this and with the preparation of my wake... Make Adrien wear that plaid suit from the winter collection.

— Sir Agreste... — the assistant sighed, trying to control her tongue so as not to say all the things that crossed her mind — You will not die, or rather: you will die, but not now. I really hope you don't die today, I have too much to do and I don't have time to hide a body! — She crossed her arms, sulking, wondering if her revenge had really been a good idea.

— Nathalie?

— What is!?

— I want an exclusive memorial and everything decorated in red roses. I also want several white butterflies flying, to symbolize the...

And, before he could continue, he was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door being slammed. Nathalie had fled before murdered the chief took place with her bare hands.

.

.

.

Adrien blinked her eyes a few times, thinking he was in a dream within the other... guilt over eating so much.

One of his visitors was looking at him as if he saw a haunt. The other, a black kitten, seemed intent on getting out of the boy's arms and going to the ground.

That blonde was strangely familiar, it was almost as if he knew him from somewhere, but he just looked like a blurry memory. A memory of when I was a child and played with...

— Felix? — Adrien risked asking, watching them closely.

The blue eyes widened, blinked a few times and fixed on Agreste. Felix held the cat a little more tightly and took a few steps back, before turning on his back and starting his escape route from that room. However, when he had one hand on the doorknob, he felt himself being hugged hard enough for air to escape from his lungs.

— Felix! It's you! — now Adrien spoke with excitement, her voice muffled by having her face buried in the other's back — I can't believe you came back!

— Let go — it was all the boy managed to ask for, but it was in vain. In response, he was hugged even more tightly and was forced to release Plagg so that, with both hands free, he would try to get rid of that tight hug — I told you to let go!

— Oh, sorry... — Adrien finally released him from the hug, just to drag him to the sofa and throw him on top of the furniture — I still can't believe you're back! It's been years! — at no time did the smile diminish, on the contrary, it seemed to increase — Why did you leave? Do you know how horrible it was just to have Chloé to play with !?

— I can imagine perfectly — Felix rolled his eyes.

— Then why didn't you come back before?

— It was your fault — despite being practically interrogated, the eldest did not diminish his arrogance in his answers.

— But... but you came back now, so it means you forgave me? — Agreste smiled hopefully, sitting next to his old “imaginary friend”.

— Let's say so — Felix shrugged.

— Thanks! — Adrien practically shouted, grabbing the other in a tight hug again, until he got grumbling about squeezing too much and letting go — You don't know how much it means to me to have you back!

— Okay, okay, whatever... — the older man got up, looking around the room in search of Plagg — Where did that annoying cat get in? — He murmured between his teeth, he just wanted to run away from that room and pretend that nothing happened.

— Oh! It's true, now I also have an imaginary cat! — Agreste practically jumped off the couch, euphoric — I think that being older makes me can imagine things in a better way, right?

— It must be... — Felix sighed, controlling himself not to break Adrien's expectations just to call him an idiot.

— Wait... — the boy put his hand on his chin, thoughtful — Am I kind of too old to have imaginary friends?

— It could be a regression, something like adepts of infantilism do...

— Do you think? — and when receiving a positive nod, Adrien started to think even more about the question — I definitely need to warn Nathalie about this.

— No! You can't tell my mom! — Felix stared at him in amazement, becoming even more fearful after noticing what he had just said.

— Your mother? — the green eyes looked at him in shock, looking for something — You... you're not imaginary, are you? Are you real!

Felix did not contest and Adrien said nothing more. He started pacing, sometimes facing Felix or Plagg - the kitten had settled on the couch, waiting for the owner -, he thought in a completely focused way about what was happening until, after what seemed like an eternity, finally opened his mouth:

— You are not my imaginary friend. You are for real, you have always been for real... — he said with some resentment for never having thought that.

— Exactly — agreed the other, trying to pretend indifference in the same way that the mother did — And that's why nobody can know about me.

— Why? — the youngest let the body slide slowly on the sofa. The green eyes looked at Felix in a mixture of fear and curiosity, but all he received was an irritated frown, accompanied by a justification:

— If you be quiet, I can explain…

.

.

.

Gorilla had already finished washing all the dishes when, in an epiphany, he found the answer to most of his questions. Now, he was dedicating a small part of his time to writing the important new parts of his general theory about Nathalie:

.

_Nathalie got involved in the hallucinogenic coffee powder traffic and, due to the efficiency, was invited on a trip to Russia to meet the mafia leader._

_They ended up having an affair and she got pregnant, but the family saw her with a bad eye and threw her out (she never talks about the family) and the leader didn't want the baby because he preferred world domination._

_Felix is being hidden because his father may want to use him to lure Nathalie and use her efficiency for the crime._

_Wanting an easy way to get the Agreste fortune, she hooked Emilie into hallucinogenic coffee and “made her disappear”, is plotting to do the same thing with Gabriel and maybe with Adrien (don't let Adrien drink coffee!)._

.

With a smile of satisfaction, the big guy looked at his notes one last time before putting his notebook away and going back to work, but he noticed a potential error in the whole truth he had just discovered: Nathalie's age would determine the truth of it all. or incompatibility.

There were calculations to be made!

If a pregnancy takes, on average, nine months and if Felix was approximately sixteen years old, would Nathalie need to be at least... thirty? Thirty-one? Two? More than thirty-five certainly couldn't be and she needed to be a young single mother for her theory to make sense!

They only had two ways to resolve those doubts: by asking her directly or looking at the records. The only people with access to the records were Nathalie and Gabriel Agreste, which made only one option viable despite the margins of error.

Determined to discover the truth, Gorilla walked the corridors in quick steps in search of Nathalie. She wasn't in the kitchen, in the servants' rooms, in the corridors, in the garden, in the studio...

Before he could go looking for her in the bathroom or somewhere else in the mansion, the big guy noticed her coming out of a second-floor door he would never have imagined: Gabriel's room. He tried to disguise the surprise, mainly because one of the variants of the theory indicated that Agreste was the father of Félix — perhaps they were trying to resume the engagement and so Emilie had to disappear.

A small question would be enough to determine which of the two paths led to the absolute truth, but it would need to be asked with extreme care: most women did not like to reveal their age and asking him too directly would result in distrust.

— Er... Nathalie? — he called when his colleague was already coming down the stairs — I've been thinking...

— I'm glad you're thinking lately, it's one of the brain's functions — her voice came out harsh, making clear the bad mood.

Ignoring the clear warning “don't talk to me, risk to life”, Gorilla took a deep breath and threw a completely lame excuse to get to know her age:

— I'm probably the oldest between the two of us, but I don't know exactly how old and you know how easy I get with things, so I thought if...

— Thirty-seven with the stress of a taxi driver with an eighty-year career, so please be quiet and pretend I died! Or, better: pretend that Mr. Agreste is going to die and help him to plan the whole ceremony, because I swear that if he speaks some other stupidity I will take care that...! — and, before she could finish her threats, Nathalie was interrupted by her colleague's laughter. Without understanding exactly what grace he was seeing, she took on her usual expression of indifference and asked: — What are you laughing at?

— It's just that I already... — he gave another one of his voiceless laughs — I've seen women lie their age before, of course... — the big guy took a deep breath — But never for more!

She was unable to keep the mask she was wearing. Even against her will, a small smile appeared on her. That could be considered a compliment, something that hadn't received in a long time.

— I rounded up less, actually — she murmured before entering the studio.

Gorilla remained standing exactly where he was, wondering if Nathalie had resorted to plastic surgery or if she had found a fountain of youth. Sure, well-cared women arrived at that age even better than she was, but it was scientifically proven that anyone who worked for Gabriel aged three years in one due to stress - and there was no one who spent more time with him than Nathalie.

— Ah, before I forget: Felix is in the room, isn't he? - She asked, leaving the room where she worked with the tablet in her hands.

Awakening from the state of denial, the big man looked at her and replied:

— In the bedroom? I just came from there and there was no one.

— Kitchen?

— No.

— Where is he? — despite keeping her voice in the same tone as always, it was possible to notice her despair and irritation by the look — Where is my son!?

— Do not know! I had to write some things down and then I came to talk to you. I didn't see him anywhere in the mansion, I had even forgotten that he was here... In fact, how old is he?

— Seventeen — the answer was said between his teeth — If he is where I think he is... — he murmured.

— And where do you think he is?

Nathalie didn't respond at all, just went up the stairs and headed for Adrien's room.

.

.

.

The two boys were on the couch, with Plagg between them. The silence still dominated the environment completely, Felix was too focused looking for a way to synthesize everything that had happened in the past and Adrien was thinking about all the other lies that surrounded him.

— I study at a boarding school since always, I come home only on Sundays. I don't remember the reason, but when I was little my mother started coming to work on some of those Sundays and she needed to bring me, because I had no one to stay with. As nobody could know about me, she and her mother invented this as an imaginary friend — and, for the first time that day, Félix spoke more than one sentence maintaining a calm and understanding tone, without using sarcasm or anything like that, so present in your conversations.

Adrien nodded, but kept the silence for a while longer. He was trying to take it all in and accept that a small part of his childhood had been a big lie.

— Why couldn't anyone know about you? Why does Nathalie never talk about you? — Asked Agreste, breaking the silence once again.

— Why not. The fewer people who know about me, the better — Félix crossed his arms — Your father mainly.

— Why?

— Why not! — the eldest got up — You know: don't talk about what happened to anyone. If you want to talk to me again, I'll probably be locked in one of the employee rooms...

— Locked? Why? You can't just say that and then leave! I want to talk to you more, Félix! — Adrien stood up, hugging the other in the same way as before, as if that would prevent him from leaving — Please stay longer!

— He can't stay, Adrien — said Nathalie, who had just entered the room. She was looking at them so seriously that Adrien felt forced to let go of his friend, Felix couldn't even move.

— Mom… — he murmured, trying to think of a way to explain himself.

— I do not want to hear a word from you, Felix — the woman's voice seemed much colder than normal — Go to the bedroom, now.

— It was my bad luck, Plagg ran away and I had to come after him! I swear I didn't mean it, I didn't even know whose room it was, mom! — the boy tried to explain himself, but nothing seemed to make Nathalie give in a little — Please, I can explain! It wasn't my fault!

— You need to learn to take the blame for the bullshit you do, Felix! — with the limit of patience extrapolated, Nathalie grabbed Plagg with one hand and her son's wrist with the other, ready to start dragging him out.

— No! Please let him stay this time! — Agreste pleaded, grabbing Félix's other arm — You are talking like my father that day! Félix was not to blame, let him stay!

Felix not having a chance to explain himself properly made Nathalie a little afraid that her judgment on his being guilty, but she needed to get her son out of that room anyway; Adrien's pleas almost made her stop and go back, but it was one of the phrases that really made her stagnate in the same place and start having memories of a distant past: “You are talking like my father that day! ”.

So it wasn't just her who remembered what happened... however, she knew about the circumstances:

.

_More than a decade ago, Emilie Agreste celebrated her acceptance into a book club. To anyone, joining a reading club and spending time with fiction lovers might seem like an easy thing, but for Emilie it would have been just a distant dream had it not been for Nathalie. Since they met, the assistant was the only presence that encouraged her to take advantage of these small joys, doing the possible and the practically impossible as support:_

— _Are you sure you won't have any problems, Nathalie? — the blonde's voice showed all the exaggerated concern she felt._

— _Of course! — the assistant smiled — It will be only twice a month, everything is fine._

— _And Felix doesn't care? — Emilie stared at the little boy on Nathalie's lap who, as soon as she noticed the look on her face, hid her face in her mother's clothes._

— _No, he thought it was fun — Nathalie smiled again, touching Félix's blond hair — You should go now. You don't want to be late on the first day, do you?_

— _No way!_

_And, letting anxiety overwhelm her, Emilie gave Nathalie and Felix a kiss on the cheek goodbye and hurried out, leaving only the two of them in the mansion's large dining room. Now, without Emilie's “scary presence”, Félix finally had the courage to look around again._

— _Remember the rules of the new game, right? — Nathalie held his chin and made him look at her._

— _You can't talk to anyone, just mom, Adrien and the blonde lady — the little boy repeated what his mother had been saying hundreds of times in the past hours._

— _AND...?_

— _And you have to hide if someone gets close._

— _Why?_

— _Because I'm going to play an imaginary friend with Adrien! — and, following the last reply, Felix gave a lovely smile._

— _Very well! — the woman hugged him a little more and then put him on the floor — And when do you want to start playing?_

— _Now! — he replied enthusiastically, grabbing Nathalie's hand and waiting for him to be taken to the magical place full of toys that his mother had promised if he behaved and played with Adrien._

_The kids loved playing - especially Adrien, as he now had a little friend to spend time with. Gabriel was so busy that he didn't even notice his wife's absence on the days when she went to that book club, so little that her son had a friend... at least, until the day his work was interrupted by the sound of something breaking in the hall, probably one of the most expensive decorating vases._

— _Adrien! — extinct, it was the first thing the older Agreste was concerned with while dropping the drawing sheets and getting up from the table._

— _I'll check it myself, sir! — Nathalie hurried and managed to reach the studio door handle before him._

— _Nathalie, my son may have been hurt! — he tried to justify, dragging the assistant out of the way and opening the doors — Adrien! — he exclaimed again, noticing the child with blond hair bent down, trying futilely to collect the pieces of a Chinese vase that was shattered on the floor — Did you get hurt, son? — He asked anxiously, lowering himself in front of the little one and holding his little hands in search of a cut._

— _Nu... — Adrien looked at her father and immediately looked around, looking for Felix._

— _Son, what have we talked about? You don't say “nu”, right is “no”... — Gabriel tried to sound understandable, but he was at the limit of his patience with all the deadlines expiring, he didn't have a decent reservation to repeat the same thing more than twice — How did you break the vase?_

— _I didn't break — whined the child._

— _Adrien, speak the truth._

— _Sir... — Nathalie intervened — the vase is already broken, you don't need to subject it to it._

— _Shut up, Nathalie. He's my son, not your. — The older man sighed, trying to regain his composure to speak to Adrien again: — Son, please tell Dad who broke the vase._

— _I did nu ... — the green eyes looked around again and stopped at the father again — It was Felix._

_That was the last straw for Gabriel to lose his temper completely. He stood up, looked at his son as if Adrien had made the worst mistake, and then looked at his assistant._

— _Who is Félix, Nathalie?_

— _He's Adrien's imaginary friend, sir. — She couldn't look away from the floor. She was too nervous to think that her son could be hiding nearby, or that he might have been seen walking around the mansion._

— _Adrien, go to your room, Dad and Nathalie need to talk..._

— _But Dad... it was Felix, it wasn't me! — the child tried to contest, his eyes were already filled with tears as he imagined what would happen if he really left the adults alone._

— _Go to your bedroom! — Gabriel sent again in a tone a little louder than he used to use, it was necessary for the son to start crying._

— _Sir, don't yell at him! Is a child! — Nathalie scolded him, standing between him and Adrien._

— _I don't remember asking your opinion! Get out of my sight! — Agreste kept his tone high._

— _Sir, Adrien is just a child... — Before he could finish the sentence, the assistant was interrupted by the superior, Gabriel was truly irritated after so many disputes._

— _SHUT DOWN, NATHALIE!_

— _You can't talk to her like that, Gabriel! — Emilie warned, had just entered the mansion and was startled to see what appeared to be the beginning of an argument._

— _You also have nothing to talk about here! While going around, doing who knows what, Adrien needs to create imaginary friends in order to blame them for the bullshit she does!_

— _Don't you dare talk about what you don't know! — the blonde came closer, using the same tone as her husband._

— _You are not a good mother!_

— _And you were never a real father!_

_While the argument between the couple continued, Nathalie took Adrien on her lap and fled to the child's room. It was amazing how the other two started to argue about the mistakes they made with their son, but they always forgot that the little one should not witness that kind of thing._

_As soon as he entered the room, Nathalie calmed down to see her son playing quietly - fortunately, the screams were not heard there. When she put Adrien on the floor, she was surprised that he ran to Felix and hugged him. She was even more surprised when the hug was returned._

_The two children remained clinging to each other, as if they already knew that this was some kind of farewell. She couldn't risk taking Felix to the mansion again and, as much as it hurt to admit, that “imaginary friend” joke was causing problems for Adrien._

.

— It was me, Nathalie! I admit that I broke the vase! Please let him stay this time! — Adrien's pleas woke her from her memories.

— It was Plagg, I didn't want to enter here! — again, Félix tried to explain himself.

Nathalie stared at the two boys: the son was clearly scared, he had already been told numerous times what would happen if he ended up in that room and knew that his mother would not threaten without actually complying; Adrien was nervous, probably blaming himself for having Felix away for “his fault” again. Unable to proceed with what he was going to do, Nathalie took a deep breath and released the older boy's arm, just like the cat.

— I'm not in the mood for conversation right now — she crossed her arms behind her back — I'll let Félix stay a little longer, as long as...

— Anything! — Adrien interrupted, smiling, clinging even more to the friend.

— As long as they don't leave this room. Mr. Agreste can't even imagine that I have a son, neither do other people, so I hope you know how to keep this secret very well kept — she looked at Adrien.

— I promise no one will know!

— Mother — Felix called, letting go of Agreste and approaching her — Will you still kill me?

— If you behave, don't.

— I promise to behave — the boy smiled.

— I need to go now, but I should come back later and see how you are. No leaving the room, in case you need something just ask the bodyguard to call me — while talking, Nathalie gently touched her son's hair — Behave yourself — she asked again, facing the two boys and leaving the room next.

Felix and Adrien looked at each other, calm again. The eldest was happy that he could have been acquitted and because now he could have something to do other than just stay in the kitchen and the employee's room. The youngest was happy to have a close friend during the holidays, even more because he could remember fun things from when he was little.

As for Plagg: the kitten was distracted, exploring the bedroom desk. He would definitely have fun in that place, full of things to scratch, bite and knock over, like the pen holder he had just dropped on the floor.

— Plagg! — Felix scolded the animal.

— My precious! — Adrien wailed, looking at her beautiful pens sprawled on the floor.

It would be a fun afternoon for the kitten, maybe not so much fun for the other two.


End file.
